A/N: And here we are - another chapter! Oh, how I do love all of your reviews! I would like to see a bit more reviews before I post some more; it makes me feel like my work is appreciated and actually being read! I hope everyone enjoys!

Disclaimer: I, in no way, own any part of Final Fantasy VII or its characters.


I had a feeling something was amiss when I woke the next morning. Sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes, I tried to analyze the feeling. I felt like something was missing. Hurriedly, I dressed in breeches and a form fitting white shirt with black suspenders. I pulled my hair into a thick braid and exited my room, headed for the dining hall. My worries would just have to wait until my stomach had been satisfied.

The dining hall was empty, except for the long table. The center of the table had an array of breakfast foods set out; jams, butter for toast and an assortment of juices. I grabbed two pieces of toast, spread jam over the surface and ate them quickly, pleased when my stomach calmed. Now it was time to explore the strange feeling I had surging inside. I turned and nearly ran into Chamberlain. He smiled a winning grin.

"Good morning, Tifa," he bowed in respect.

"Don't do that, Chamberlain, I'm not a queen," I scoffed, pulling him upright by his shoulders. Chamberlain grinned.

"I know, but I feel it is appropriate," he explained. Footsteps approached us and I peered over his shoulder eagerly, expecting to see Cloud. Instead, a servant passed through the arching entrance, passing silently by us and disappearing behind a tapestry, a silver tray in his hands.

"Looking for someone?" Chamberlain teased. "Master Cloud has gone out for a couple of days. He has gone for supplies for your trip through the trapdoor." Chamberlain elaborated. I arched my eyebrow.

"You know about the trapdoor?" I asked incredulously. Chamberlain fixed me with a peculiar look.

"Of course I know about the trapdoor," he chuckled. "I'm second to none when it comes to knowledge of what's underneath. After Master Cloud, of course." Chamberlain reached for a piece of toast and munched contently. A light switched on in my head.

"Cloud went for supplies?" I repeated. Chamberlain nodded, his mouth full of slightly burned bread. So that explained the feeling I'd had earlier that morning. It was because Cloud had left. "For a few days?" I added.

"Yep," Chamberlain mumbled around a mouthful of food. "But he told me to let you know that his castle is your castle, so do what pleases you. He made it clear that you are to have no restrictions, except that Master Cloud insists you stay away from the trapdoor." I rolled my eyes. I couldn't find my way back to the trapdoor in a million years.

"Don't worry about that," I said. "I don't remember the way." Chamberlain finished his toast and stood, brushing his hands on the tunic he always faithfully wore.

"I've got some other things to take care of, so you just enjoy yourself, Tifa." He smiled at me and when I nodded, took off through the doorway.

I was, once more, alone. I stood there for a few moments, unsure of what I wanted to do. I remembered the door Cloud had taken me through to get outside and searched for it. When I found it I ventured through the dim corridor and emerged outside. I didn't realize how much I missed being outside until I found myself inhaling the crisp air like I hadn't breathed in years.

The grounds of the castle were much larger than I had earlier thought. I could see that a little ways past the weapon shed was a barn, no doubt holding horses and all manner of livestock. That's where I headed. I saw no one on the grounds as I went. I admired the green of the grass and the blue of the sky. Things seemed a lot more peaceful when you were the only one in sight. Vaguely, it felt like I was being watched. However, when I looked around, I saw no one in sight. When I was a few yards away from the barn, the smell of hay and manure assailed my senses. I loved the smell of tack leather, especially the oils used to make it stay supple and shiny. There were two people near the barn; the two boys I'd saw lead the carriage away from the front grounds of the castle when I'd first arrived. They were dressed in red, lunging a chestnut horse in a dirt arena. They took little notice of me as I slipped into the barn.

I was greeted by the noises of horses. Different sounds made up the greeting – soft snuffling, stamping hooves and the rustle of many manes. I counted twelve horses altogether, minus the one outside, each resting in their stalls. The horses ignored me as I drifted slowly down the concrete aisle, reading the names engraved on the brass nameplates on each stall door. The barn was dimly lit, but I suppose the horses liked it that way, for they seemed happy and content.

There was one horse that drew my attention almost immediately upon entering the barn. In one of the last stalls was a beautiful horse; a rich brown stallion with shapes of white along his neck. I approached slowly, letting the stallion examine me thoroughly. I had been around horses plenty before, and I knew that stallions had the tendency to be hot-tempered and sometimes hard to control. This stallion seemed the opposite of every other I had encountered before. He watched with intelligent chocolate eyes as I held out my hand to him. I smiled when his baby-soft muzzle tickled my open palm; his breath hot and sweet, smelling like sugar and grass. His mane was a gorgeous flaxen blond; the lightest shade of brown and the darkest of blond. It made for a striking contrast between the rich chocolate brown of his coat. I looked down at his nameplate.

"Archer," I said his name aloud. Archer flicked his ears, nodding his head as if he were answering me. I pressed my palm against his cheek, admiring at how gentle he was. My other hand reached up and stroked his forelock. Unlike the usually coarse hair other horses had, Archer's mane was almost as smooth as my hair. Archer's eyes closed. His stall was dark, but I could still see that his rich brown color was marked with tiny patches of white along his right flank, reminding me of squares and stars. Two of his legs had white socks that traveled up to his knee and all four of his hooves were black. Archer seemed to be the sweetest horse I had ever met. Suddenly, the barn was flooded with natural light. I looked toward the door to see the twin boys entering, leading a chestnut horse by a short black lead. One of them took the horse to its stall and entered with it, the other stopping in the middle of the aisle and watching me.

"Miss?" he asked. His eyes held a mysterious anxiety that I couldn't place. "Can I do something for you?" The boy couldn't have been more than ten years of age. The thought brought a smile to my lips.

"No, I'm fine. I was just admiring Archer," I scratched under his forehead. Archer leaned into my touch. The boy in the aisle took a few steps toward me, eyes wide. I could read his fear. "Is everything alright?" I asked. This boy was afraid.

"Um, the stallion? He hasn't hurt you?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Hurt me? Of course not," I replied, looking back toward the stallion. "He's a sweetheart! Why would he ever hurt me?" The boy joined me by the stall.

"He doesn't like a lot of people," the boy continued. At the sound of his voice, Archer's eyes snapped open and he pinned his ears back, clacking his teeth inches from the boy's nose. The boy jumped back, terrified. The stallion's brown eyes no longer looked intelligent and kindly; instead, they burned with a hatred that bewildered me.

"Did you do something to him?" I asked, reflecting on the malicious expression the horse was directing his way. The boy held up his hands and shook his head.

"Not at all! We've only had Archer for a few months. Master Cloud arrived home on his back one night and instructed my brother and me to set him up in a stall. We had to herd him into it because he wouldn't let us touch him. He kept trying to take a chunk out of my arm!" The boy held out his left arm and I saw a shiny pink scar roughly the size of an orange near his elbow.

"Yikes! Looks like he got you," I observed. The injury was long healed, but the boy rubbed it as if it still pained him.

He made a face. "Yeah," he gazed down at the scar. "It hurt really bad," he added.

"I'm Tifa," I introduced myself, forgetting that we didn't know each other's names.

"Henry," He shook my hand. "My brother is Hamlet." I stifled a giggle. "I know, his name is funny, isn't it!" Henry giggled along with me. "Anyway, be careful around Archer. He looks like he really likes you, though, so you shouldn't have any problems with him. He might even let you ride him," Henry observed. Archer transferred his glare to gaze tenderly at me, lowering his head and butting my chest with his forehead. Henry chuckled as I stumbled and nearly lost my balance. Just as I was about to fall, Archer reached out and grabbed my shirt between his teeth, keeping me vertical. I fixed my feet underneath me and stood upright, gently pulling my shirt from his grasp. Henry whistled low.

"Yep, he really likes you, Tifa. You and Master Cloud are the only ones he ever likes," Hearing Cloud's name reminded me that he wasn't here. Hamlet emerged from the chestnut horses' stall, wiping his hands on his pants. He joined his brother near me and watched Archer warily. The stallion had pinned his ears back again and looked none too happy.

"He likes you." Hamlet stated. I had a feeling Hamlet was a boy of few words. Despite looking identical to his brother, Henry and Hamlet were polar opposites. Henry and I were fast on our way to becoming friends, while I just knew Hamlet and I wouldn't get any closer than we were now. Henry beamed and took his brothers arm.

"Hamlet and I have to go back to work now," he announced. "But it was nice meeting you!" he exclaimed. I smiled and agreed. His happiness was so infectious; it made it hard not to smile after he spoke!

"Good meeting you too!" Henry and Hamlet disappeared through the open barn doors, closing the barn behind them and plunging me back into near darkness. Eventually my eyes situated and I was able to see just as well as if it had been daylight. Archer tossed his head, throwing his forelock free from his forehead. I cupped his muzzle in my hands and kissed his face.

"Gotta go, boy. I'll come back tomorrow," I promised. The stallion whickered softly, regretting my departure. He snorted, watching me walk away.

I emerged into the daylight, squinting. Off in the distance I could see Henry and Hamlet loading bales of golden hay into a wooden cart, attached to a muscular draft horse that stood stock still. I considered going to help them, but upon seeing Hamlet lift the bales and toss them aboard the wagon with incredible ease, I changed my mind. They had it handled. I ambled along, enjoying the day. I had absolutely nothing to do but kill time. I debated on whether to choose a weapon from the shed and practice, but I changed my mind. I had no desire to throw or spar. I paused and settled into the grass, dotted with wildflowers, and lay back, putting my arms behind my head and watching the clouds in the sky. As I lay back, my mind began to wander, drifting through thoughts of Cloud.

I liked him, sure. But was that like based on merely superficial reasons? Or did I genuinely have feelings for him? Obviously he was beautiful. Obviously he was strong. Was that the only reason I liked him? I didn't exactly know enough about him to base any other feelings on him, did I? I closed my eyes, turning my head and inhaling. The fresh smell of flowers filled the air, adding serenity and calming me down into an almost trance-like state. I inhaled once more, suddenly confused. Why was I getting the smell of brimstone?

I opened my eyes, tensing. My breath caught in my throat and I fought the wild urge to run. About ten feet away, standing with its head low and blazing red eyes fixed intently on me. A dog, about the size of a mastiff, was staring at me. The smell of brimstone was coming from this dog; I knew it for a fact. It wasn't just that the black coat of the dog looked as though it was made of smoke. The breeze sent the smoky tendrils of the dog's coat in my direction – bringing with it the choking smell of sulfur, burning hair and decay. This was much more than brimstone. Fear paralyzed my system and I couldn't move. I couldn't lift my little finger.

The dog stalked through the grass, eyes fixed on me. His gaze never wavered from my face and a low growl escaped his throat.

"W-what do you w-want?" I found my voice was still functioning. I debated whether or not to scream. Even if I did, the only person to hear my scream would be Henry, or maybe Hamlet. And what could they do? Henry and Hamlet were ten years old, and this dog looked to be able to take down not only them, but the draft horse they worked with to finally finish with me without breaking a sweat.

The dog never moved any closer to me; instead, he circled me like a hawk several times, spreading the smell around me completely until I felt I was going to choke.

"Tifa…" The dog growled. Stunned, all I could do was gape, his horrible smell making my eyes water. "You have been warned…" His voice was a rasping grate that sent chills down my spine and my pulse racing. Suddenly, the dog vanished in a breath of cold wind. The air cleared instantly and I took great gulps of fresh oxygen, treating my lungs. I sat up, bewildered if what had happened was real. I had been warned? What did that mean?

I shuddered involuntarily and decided that maybe I wanted to go inside after all. I nearly ran into the castle, feeling safe almost immediately after shutting the door behind me. I felt that nothing could harm me while I stayed in Cloud's castle. I found my way through the small corridor and came out into the dining hall, which was empty of any food. I rushed through, hearing my footsteps echo through the stone hallway and upon reaching the entrance hall, I rocketed up the stairs. Fear was still coursing through my bloodstream. I rushed through the hallway outside my room and into it, throwing myself onto the bed and burrowing under the covers, shaking in fear.

What the hell had I just seen! In the dark protection of my bed, I began to relax. The hound had talked to me… Did that mean he was something otherworldly? My mind screamed the word 'hell hound' and suddenly, it struck me.

The trapdoor.

I was one hundred percent sure that the hell hound had come through the trapdoor. My eyes stared at the underside of my comforter, heart suddenly bursting into overtime. If the dog had come through the trapdoor…

Then that meant the door was open. I shuddered.

I sure hoped Cloud came home before something else crawled out.