Disclaimer: In no way does Dwellin own, produce, write, draw, or participate in the creative process or production of Shingeki no Kyogin (or, if you prefer, Attack On Titan) in any way, form, shape, or manner. It is the brainchild of Hajime Isayama

Chapter 10

It was late in the afternoon when Sasha brought her mount in to a halt and then slid down. After tethering the horse to a bush, she untied the saddle bags and let them slide to the ground at her feet. Then she untethered the horse from the bush he had been tied to and turned his head to pull him around in the direction of the city. Once she was satisfied, she unbuckled the bridle as she didn't want the reins to get caught in anything on his journey back. Carefully she tied them down to the saddle.

The horse craned his neck to look back at her as if puzzled by this unorthodox treatment. She smiled at him while finishing up lacing the bridle and reins down.

She may be court-martial material but she was no thief. "Sorry I borrowed you, uh, Mr. Horse, but I needed to get far enough away to get away from well-meaning advice to stay." She moved forward to pat his shoulder and then ran her fingers through his coarse dark mane. When he turned his head to look at her with huge liquid eyes, she laughed softly and stroked his cheek and then his soft, velvety nose.

"Well, aren't you a friendly one! And smart too! I'm sure you'll have no problems making it back." She leaned in to place her forehead on his warm neck and murmured, "Just don't tell them where you left me, okay?"

When the horse gently tossed his head and gave a snort she chuckled into his neck, "Yeah, I know, they'll probably figure I'm going home. But only to visit and then up into the hills to hide out… for the rest of my natural life! Don't you feel sad for me?"

Sasha clung to the mane for a moment as she thought over how she had imagined her military career would turn out. It hadn't included this fleeing off into the backwoods and living like a hermit for the rest of her life. What did hermits eat anyway?

The horse shifted from one foot to the other and broke Sasha's ruminations. She looked up and took a step back,

"Sorry Mr. Horse, you probably want to go home now and here I've kept you from it!"

She gave the horse a quick and affectionate pat and then walked back to the side of his hindquarters and gave him a slight slap on the rump. He jerked his head at the unexpected slap, but slowly started off at an amble before realizing he was in charge and began to pick up pace.

Sasha laughed ruefully, "A horse after my own heart. He probably wants his nice warm stall and bag of oats!" She watched him until he disappeared out of sight and then whispered, "Lucky horse."

With a sigh she leaned over and picked up the saddlebags along with the small tote. Throwing her bundle over a shoulder, she took a shaky breath, straightened, and then started off already thinking about what she was going to do about her next meal.

Just as Levi had finished his dinner for the night, he heard rustling in the bush behind him. Whirling, the hidden knife he carried appeared in his hand as if by magic, he was ready for anything.

Out from behind a bush the head of horse appeared and slowly the rest of it followed.

Immediately he could tell it was a military horse and wasn't one that had wandered off from some civilian.

His shoulders relaxed and he put away the knife and nodded his head to the small camp while saying, "I wasn't expecting company but you're welcome to join us."

Deciding the scene was peaceful and the man safe, the new arrival lazily moved into the circle of the firelight giving Levi a better look at it before coming to a halt.

The horse he had ridden gave a whistling whinny in greeting and shook its head and mane. The newcomer plodded over to join his fellow equine. With the gap closed, the two snuffled greetings into each other's noses.

Levi rose from his crouch looking the new arrival over. This horse had to have been the one she had absconded with from the stables but why had she let it go? Had something happened to her?

He looked back in the direction the horse had come from with a thoughtful expression before walking slowly so as not to spook the newcomer and showing it he meant no harm, even if it was a military horse trained to stand steady and quiet when approached by a soldier.

When he was next to it, he ran a hand over the coat, searching for any wounds on it or blood that could have been hers. Not a nuance of emotion showed how relieved he felt to find the horse's coat clean and without a scratch.

He knew she couldn't be that far ahead. He also knew that soon the path would join up to a main arterial road that eventually snaked up into the mountains. If she continued making a way through areas without any paths or trails, he could lose her, but he wasn't worried about the odds. No matter what, the fastest way to get where she was heading was to take the main road.

He gave the horse an affectionate if absent-minded pat on the shoulder before setting out to unbuckle the cinch and remove the saddle. In the morning he would saddle it again and send it back towards home. He had no doubts that the horse knew exactly how to get there.

It also wasn't lost on him her considerate treatment of the horse. How one treated defenseless animals who had no influence whatsoever on a career or promotions, or quest for power, showed much about one's character.

After feeding the newcomer and running a bush over him, giving him water and food, Levi went back to his pad and stretched out. As the fire died down, the stars grew more brilliant above him. He studied them without appreciation since he knew that insomnia would probably keep him up all night gazing up at them.

When he awoke the next morning, Levi sat up abruptly and in some amazement to realize that he had actually fallen asleep. By his estimate he had slept over six hours which was highly unusual for him and it felt odd to wake up feeling this refreshed.

He gave it a bare moment's thought before shrugging it aside and rose quickly to make breakfast. It wasn't long before he finished, took care of the horses, and then broke camp.

After looking over the site one last time to make sure he hadn't left anything behind (not that he would), he rechecked the gear and then went over to the extra horse, turned it in the correct direction and slapped him on the rear. He stood a moment watching it walk off in a leisurely fashion before mounting his own and heading off in the opposite direction. If he was correct, he should catch up with her in the afternoon sometime.

Sasha pulled to a sudden halt with a huff of frustration; she couldn't ignore it any long no matter how hard she tried! Lifting the offending thumb to stare balefully at it, she inspected the scratch, turning it this way and that as she did so. It had been throbbing for a while now but she had hoped that paying no attention to it would soon make the nagging pain go away. It didn't.

"Stupid thumb! Stupid thorn bush!"

The whole duration of her flight she had been making good time, but this, this was too irritating! Holding the wounded thumb eye level to assess the damage, she could see where the particularly malicious thorn had gouged into the side of her thumb.

Only one way to deal with this. She popped it into her mouth for a few seconds and then took it out to peer at it again. It was deeper than a mere scratch but thankfully, not deep enough to need stitches.

She stared at it with a frown and finally with a "what can you do" shrug she wiped the offending thumb on her pant leg before readjusting the saddlebag on her shoulder.

That was another irritation. Both of her shoulders were starting to ache from having to carry a weight they were unaccustomed to.

"I'm so out of shape even after all the new muscles I've built up over the years!"

The irony wasn't lost on her. She was stronger now than she ever had been in her life and yet so easily worn out from a morning of crashing about in the underbrush. For being so woods-smart it was embarrassing. Which was why it was such a relief when she finally came across the road she recognized as leading to the main marketing town in the direction of her village.

Before setting off again, Sasha stopped to enjoy the scenery overhead and tilted her face up to stare up at the sky above her. What she could see through the green canopy that is. She could see patches of bright blue and couldn't help the grin that crossed her face. She had missed this.

Then she lowered her gaze and said firmly, "Gotta get my forest savvy back. This is disgraceful!"

She studied her thumb one more time and saw that the bleeding had stopped so she started off again saying, "Also gotta remember to not talk to myself out loud so much. Don't want to start a bad habit. Besides, talking to oneself is not a sign of good mental health, especially if one just keeps rambling on and on…" Yeah, sort of like that, she thought wryly to herself.

Despite that thought, just knowing what lay at the end of the journey bolstered her spirits. Soon she would be among folk who wouldn't think less of her for her backwoods accent and all that was associated with it. Her step lightened and she began humming an old folk song from her childhood, while nodding happily to any fellow-travelers that passed by.

Levi Ackerman was a good horseman, but what wasn't in his skill set was tracking someone through a forest. Yet for all that, he found that she was ridiculously easy to follow. As far as he could tell, she wasn't trying to hide her trail in the least little bit.

As he alternately cantered and walked the horse he idly wondered why she wasn't being careful to hide her route or tracks. He had met several people going in the direction of the city and had paused to inquire if anyone had seen her.

After confirming that it was indeed Sasha Braus they had passed, he would nod and keep going. How nice it would be for the military police if all escapees used her not-so-sneaky-escape plan.

After a day of pursuit, when the sun was sinking on the horizon and the day was slowly fading into twilight, the best soldier of the Survey Corps would have bypassed his quarry except out of the corner of his eye he happened to spy a small dancing flame. Someone had set up camp for the night and he had a good suspicion he knew the identity of the camper.

till next chapter,

~Dwellin