The first thing I make sure to do is remove the slip of paper from the cabinet's hinges. That's how it works, you know. Insert the location, date, and/or persons of interest on a slip of paper, and the cabinet will do its best to take you there. Remove the slip- that changes.

So now even if Lee has the cellar doors I escaped through demolished, piece by piece, he'll find nothing.

Now, I'm going to take a nice, long, hot bath. With bubbles. And water warmer than negative-five-degrees-Celsius. God, my ankle is throbbing something fierce…I think I've got an ace bandage around here somewhere that should help it heal up. I hope.

After I'm all clean, toasty, and relatively relaxed-feeling, I flip open my laptop and make a short announcement on my picture-hosting site. It's probably best I let everyone know that there won't be any forthcoming pictures of Haytham Kenway anytime soon…at least, not from seventeen-fifty-four there won't be.

Anyway, I submit my proclamation and then move along to my inbox. As usual, there are about ten requests for Connor Kenway. Problem is, no one can decide what they want him to be wearing. I've broken it up so far to two or three for little Connor, another three for Captain Connor, and four for Original Connor.

I frown and bring my thumb to my lips to chew on it. From what I know of Connor, his character is pretty mellow. If I'm careful about it, I don't think he'll have much objection to me snatching a couple pics of him. The question really is what time to catch him…and how.

Well, now isn't really the time to dwell on it, I suppose. I don't plan on heading out, not with my ankle in this condition and the memories of my last incursion still raw in my mind. No, I think this is a pretty nice opportunity to take a break. And it'll give people a couple of days to get in some more detailed orders.

So, for the next three days I live as though I don't have a magical, time-transcending lump of wood in my basement. It's boring, but boring can be good. Hey, after sprinting through a freezing town with two of the world's most lethal men on your heels, boring is absolutely splendid. I go grocery shopping, I go to classes, I talk with my family, enjoy the conveniences of modern life (which, as shocking as it seems, I've come to realize many people truly don't appreciate), et cetera, et cetera. It's quite soothing.

On the fourth afternoon, I pull open my laptop to this intriguing message:

"Hello!" It begins, cordially enough, "I've always admired the natural coloring of your pictures and I admit that I always find the background more interesting than the subjects.

Seeing as you post a lot of cosplays from the video game 'Assassin's Creed' (Which I'm a fan of :D ), would you consider doing one of the Homestead? I understand if you only do clothing, but your backgrounds are so authentic I doubt that's the case.

If it's at all possible, I would really appreciate some scenic shots of the Davenport Homestead. That land is breathtakingly beautiful and its colors are rich and vibrant.

Thank you very much!"

Wise guy, eh...thinks he's got me figured out…

Still, I've never thought of that. I never thought someone would ask me to just get some pictures of good ol' nature. I mean, why not step outside and get some yourself? Truthfully I haven't noticed anything unique about the Homestead's terrain. It looks exactly like every other forest in New England.

It would certainly be a nice change of pace, though. Different from Boston's busy, smelly roads and stuffy, stinky taverns. And, best of all- no people to have to explain myself to!

Ok, well, actually, there's a slight chance Connor might be lurking around there somewhere. But it's minute. You know what? I'll just go some year before he gets there. There. Insignificant, itty-bitty problem obliterated.

Doesn't mean I won't be prepared, though. My eyes dart to my watch and inform me that sunset in New York is about two hours away. Yes, that should be enough time to get everything together…

Let no one say Helen does not learn from her mistakes. We're doing things differently now: we're travelling light; no more clunky bags. Just a small, sewn-in pocket for my camera and a stray battery or two. Also, we're going to have to dirty up my dress a bit, scruff it a little, anything to make it look less new. Though it pains me to say it, clothing in the eighteenth century simply wasn't ever that clean…

And- though this is purely precaution- we are going to write a bio for myself. No more of this I'll-make-it-up-on-the-spot crap. No. If the unthinkable should occur, and someone like Achilles Davenport and I end up on opposite ends of a hidden blade, I'll need a plan. A good, reliable, authentic one. Alright…Let's get to work.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-

July, seventeen-sixty-five. The forests are just as beautiful as they ever were, and I can breathe easily knowing there's no one on the property to discover me.

My ankle squeaks a bit under the ace bandage, but it's comfortable for the most part. A good thing, as I've been doing quite a bit of strolling around here. Been snapping pictures for about all of forty minutes so far, and sunset is only a short while away.

I'll admit, I wasn't crazy about this place at first. The air is thick and odorous, and I can't even tell you how many bugs I've swatted off my wrists and cheeks. When I first entered the woods, it seemed to me as though everything wriggled with some form of life.

And the longer I stayed, the more I realized what an interesting quality that was. The threatening, shaggy underbrush became canopies for microscopic cities and insect nations. Erratic, sharp bird wails became lofty notes of music. The sinister footsteps following me became a curious doe, sniffing at my hand. I'd giggled and scratched one of her ears, but she quickly bounded off when I touched her.

It helped that the weather was decent, of course. A pleasant breeze sailed through the meadows, gliding off hills and uplifting the curls in my hair. The sky was a magnificent blue, though now it's blazing with streaks of orange and yellow. If I crane my neck, I can even see the stars as they twinkle into the evening, one after the next.

I can't wait to heap through my findings when I get home… I went down to a creek earlier and got these gorgeous close-ups of the water as it gushed over the pebbles, wet and limpid. And, as the request dictated, I was sure to capture as much color as possible. Contrast was the key- still is, as I crouch to steady the camera, aiming at the sunset.

Yikes, it sort of hurts to bend. Lee and Haytham really did a number on my ankle after all. Oh, well, all I need to do is treat it kindly and it'll heal in a jiffy. These pictures are marvelous, though…a painting leapt right out of canvas. The sun is a ball red as blood, sinking below a horizon of burning gold…

I turn my back on nature's masterpiece, switching off my camera in order to preserve battery life. However, my eyes fall on something intriguing just as I make to leave.

A small clearing to my right, where a stick protrudes rigidly from the ground. It seems to have a length of rope connected to it-

Ah, a snare. I am drawn to it by a sad, whimpering noise. It appears there is a bunny caught in its grip.

My heart goes out to the thing immediately. It's large, black eyes are wide with pain and confusion, and its light hair is matted and dirtied from frenzied escape attempts. One of its ears is bent, and it paws at the snare pitifully. It almost seems to be crying, if bunnies can cry.

"Poor baby," I coo, sitting beside the trapped creature. It whines loudly as I raise a hand towards it, but calms when my fingers stroke its hyperventilating body. I can feel a heartbeat, furious and afraid…

"Don't you worry, little guy," I smile and blink away a tear. I'll get you out.

"Don't worry, buddy," I repeat, taking the rope in my hands and working to release its knots, "I know exactly how you feel."

The rabbit stills itself, gazing at me motionlessly. For a second, I feel like it can understand me. It's not right to keep an animal tied up like this- he should be free.

Finally, the snare is broken. I remove the lassos from the bunny's neck and leg. It takes off instantly, hopping through the brush and out of sight. I hadn't even noticed my palm lifting to pet it again. Huh. He sure took off fast. And here I thought we had a connection.

Is it odd that I feel betrayed by a rabbit?

Well, whatever. It's getting dark quickly, and I should be off. The last thing I need is to get lost in the woods, right?

Now, which way was it to the manor?

I turn back to the sunset, but it's abandoned me as well. Now my only sources of light are the rising moon and stars. The land still glows with the blue dusk of post-evening, but it's hardly enough to guide me. Instead it only serves to deepen the forest's shadows and create new obstacles from thin air. I nearly trip three times on my way uphill, none of which does my throbbing ankle any good. Huh, maybe I didn't think this whole 'coming at sunset to get the prettiest pictures' thing through.

Yes, this feels right. The manor should be just at the top of this…or was it that way? I think I see a shed in the distance, but- no, the manor is bigger than that. It's probably just a tree or something. Damn, it's so hard to tell what's what with this crappy lighting! And my leg is really starting to hurt now. I'm scared if I don't let up on it soon, I may end up really injuring myself.

Perhaps I should sit a moment. There's a nice, comfy log right here-

No! I don't have time to take a break. If I stopped now, it'd be pitch black out here by the time I stood again. I just don't have the time. I can't afford to get lost!

…I think I'm lost.

I can't help laughing aloud. Oh, how ironic. No one to chase me? No one to fire muskets at me? Fine, no problem! I'm perfectly capable of dying on my own!

Ok, what do they teach you at summer camp…how do you survive in the wilderness on your own…? Oh, come on, I totally learned all about this sixth grade.

Why do they teach survival tactics in sixth grade, anyway? I mean, what's up with that? Shouldn't they be taught in high school or something, when you're more likely to pay attention?

Whatever, I don't have time to be thinking about that. Which way was it to the manor? If I can just find the lanterns that line the outside of the edifice, I should be fine.

Oh wait. It's seventeen-sixty-five right now. That means no renovations have been made to the manor, so it's entirely possible that the place is in shambles right now- which means there'd be no lights or anything outside of it, and even if I could make it to the place, no one would let me in.

Stop thinking so negatively, Helen! You can get out of this, I know you can! Let's just- let's just stop panicking and think for a moment.

I hear footsteps.

Oh, wonderful! Maybe it's a hunter or something. That's great, I can totally play a sympathy card and get them to take me to safety! Unless it's some kind of scary, pedophile, rapist man. In that case I'm probably screwed. Oh my god, what if it's some kind of escaped convict out in the middle of nowhere? Oh man, it could be anyone! It could be Haytham Kenway for all I know, out to snuff Achilles in his quest to end the Assassins!

A twig snaps, and I detect a low growl.

Um…maybe it isn't Haytham. Maybe it's a tribe of local Indians out for my scalp!

Another growl, and something that sounds like panting.

Alright. I think I've officially got bigger problems than Indians right now. I spin around (painfully) and am not surprised to note the many pairs of golden eyes fixed upon my being.

I have not come this far to be devoured by wolves.

An electric current pulses through my body and I throw myself into action. For the first time in my life, I'm going to climb a tree. It's the closest thing, and I know somewhere in the back of my mind that wolves can't climb. They can't, can they?

I break into a run and my canine predators do the same. Completely oblivious to the pain my ankle, I leap onto the nearest trunk and wrap my arms around the bark. I shimmy up just as a set of jaws snaps around my dress hem, pulling a large amount of the fabric away. I shriek from fear and exhilaration, using the adrenaline to push myself further up.

I'm sliding, though. I can't keep this hold! Oh god, am I really going to die like this? This is so pathetic! I'm about six feet off the ground, and only a centimeter or two from the wolves' biting range!

No, no, it's not ending like this! There's a branch just a foot or so above me- I think I can make it. I tighten my grip and hoist with all my upper-body-strength (nonexistent, that is, but hey, you can accomplish a lot of with death at your feet).

Agony rips through my ankle and I cry out, hot tears smelting my eyes. I glance down, half-expecting to see a dog suspended from my foot, but no- the pain originated from my attempts to climb. Apparently, the sprain is much more serious than I'd thought. I think I'm really close to a fracture here.

The wolves have begun to bark at me, while others still scrape at the trunk with their paws. All in all, this situation is not pleasing to the senses in any way.

Ok, I grunt, I've reached the branch! I'm hanging about ten feet off the ground now, out of reach of the animals. Goodness, now I've become the rabbit. And there's no beautiful, sweet, kindness-prone young woman to save my ass! Talk about unfair.

Girl. You have more problems to worry about right now. Focus.

My grip is certainly much better here than it was on the trunk, but I don't know how long I can keep it up. There's a chance I can wait the wolves out, but with it being seventeen-sixty-five and all, there's no one to come to my rescue. No one lives here, it's all wilderness. Great. I make a plan and it backfires me to hell.

Well, at the very least let's try to get a better position.

I inch forward, slowly. One movement at a time. If I can just cross my legs and arms under the tree's limb, I might be able to lay down my head. If I can do that, I can sleep. If I can sleep, I can wait these guys out and level a strategy.

Oh, yeah, falling asleep with a pack of wolves howling at you is no biggie for me. Seriously. I've got fifteen younger cousins.

Alright, this is good! I've crossed my legs under the branch (MUCH to my ankle's screaming protest), and I'm now completely parallel to the limb. If I can just reach forward a little bit more-

What's that creaking noise?

…Is it my imagination, or am I dipping.

What.

And then there's the crack. That is the moment I become aware that I am upside-down.

I can't help hollering as I plunge towards the earth. Through sheer luck, I stick my hands in the air and grasp opposite ends of the now splintered branch. Its other half falls, teasing a pained yelp from one of my tormentors. Heh, heh.

A snap at my heels and I'm focused again. I forgot how high these guys can leap! Ok, we need to hoist ourselves up one more time…!

Oh, god, my arms are practically bleeding from the inside. They're in agony trying to pull my weight onto this damned tree!

But, I do it. Okay, I'm now wedged in the v-shaped crook of the thing, with the trunk running higher into the air and my fractured sanctuary splitting off to the right. I breathe a sigh of relief, but this isn't over yet. This isn't the best spot- I hardly even fit in it. My right leg is dangling out of the crook. I won't be able to stay here long term, and that's what I'll need to do. If I lose my balance up here for even a moment, I'll go toppling for sure. And I did NOT come this far to be dinner!

I scan my surroundings desperately, squinting into the darkness to come up with any sort of solution. It's so black out here now that I can't even see the wolves. Everything is by sound and touch now.

Except…

The moonlight outlines its shape like a shimmering sleeve. A thick, sturdy branch, within jumping distance! Not bendable like the previous one! Oh, yeah, I'll be safe up there! It looks so comfortable, and it's plenty high up! Someone's not going to be wolf-chow tonight!

All I need to do is climb to my feet. That's easy, I've got the trunk here for support. I lean both my hands on its choppy surface and push, groaning to move into a standing position-

And then things become very strange for me.

There's a very brief flash of pain- more like a prick than anything else. Then, there's this sound, like a cracker snapping in half. My first thought was, 'crackers? Yum'.

But then I didn't get to think about that, because everything went blank. The lights just turned off. What little there was to see disappeared entirely. My eyes were wide open, but they took nothing in. I felt…surprised. In shock, I suppose. Confused, adrift. What just happened to me?

And then I was falling.