My apologies for taking so long to update with this story. For a while I hit and art blockage which made it hard to find where to do with this tale. Still, I hope these coming chapters will prove entertaining enough to keep readers interested. Again, please accpet my humble apologies for the lack of editing. I tend to write just for fun mostly so I don't do much editing, heh.
Thank you for reading!

Turning around he made his way onward in the opposite direction of Lady Elena's cottage. A gentle but still frigid snow began to fall, the tiny flakes now covering both Connor and the stiff as a board Redcoat slung over his shoulder. He didn't look back until he was well beyond sight of the cabin but as he turned he could see the familiar flash of vivid flaming gold; Elena's hair, she was still standing watching him even if she couldn't see him any longer. Turning back Connor found his mind wondering what life would have been like had he chosen to stay instead of leave Lady Elena's company? The comforts of friendship were something he hadn't felt in quite some time as any men who were 'friends' could or would very well turn on him for the right price. Then again they knew who he was, what he was, and they knew of his enemies. Many men of war would betray or extort their fellow men if need be, for money power or even the promise of immunity from disputes other men were dragged into.
The man over his shoulders began to grow heavier and heavier as the heat from Connor's body began to slowly thaw the frozen carcass just enough to droop a bit more. Upon that realization Connor decided he'd carried the man long enough and with a heaving shove he pushed the body off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Wisps of freshly fallen snow puffed in the air as the weighted body hit into it, so much so that by the time it all settled bad half the body was against buried beneath the fresh flakes.
Standing for a moment to catch his breath, letting the fresh air sink into his lungs even though it was cold, Connor looked around for any sign of direction. He could read paths well and track easily but in a fresh snowfall like this even those with higher senses had trouble finding a definite course. The day was still young enough that if Connor pressed on he could perhaps make it a few miles before twilight hour but a cold wind blew through and reassured him that although temporarily in relapse the storm had not yet died out and there was an obvious threat of another heavy downfall of snow. For a moment Connor cursed to himself for leaving the cottage too soon but he reminded himself as to why he had. He had no business being there and he knew it. The Lady may have been a kind and strong woman but she was still just an innocent bystander and if he got her into trouble, or worse hurt, by being in her home when an invading force crossed through he'd never forgive himself.
The sound of a gunshot caught his attention and within minutes Connor was in pursuit of the culprit or culprits. The snow made movement difficult and slow but he pushed on with all his senses honed on the lingering echo and signs of gunfire. He came to an overhang and he heard voices speaking. Dropping low and moving with careful caution he stepped gingerly to the lip of the overhang and peered down through an opening in the brush. A small glimmer of red piqued his interest but upon further investigation he noticed there was more blue to the outfit than red and he let out a small sigh of relief. Despite having no reserve for killing enemies Connor knew in this position making a kill without being noticed would be incredibly difficult. Even if it were Regulars he'd of more than likely passed them by and continued on ignoring them in hopes they'd ignore him or not notice him.
However, seeing that these were Colonial soldiers gave him some small shred of hope that he'd be able to make commune with someone from his own camp. The chance was slim and Connor knew that if they didn't know of him these men could very well turn against him in fear or ignorance so his approach would have to be cautious; he had no intention of spilling blood right now, particularly not allied blood.
Stepping back away from the overhang he charted a course through the snow taking care in his footing. The snow made everything look even or level but underneath the ground could give way or even worse not even exist so treading through rocky areas like this was risky. When he finally hit the thinner snow Connor noticed a footpath carved through the fresh snow. It hadn't been used in a day or two but it led directly into the camp he'd just spied. So, he made his way down the neatly carved path toward the camp switching his mannerisms and personality to be as humble and unthreatening as possible without appearing stupid or weak. Despite feeling unimposing Connor knew he was a largely build man, much larger and fit than any of the men in that camp, so he'd have to be careful about his body language. Any sign of a threat and these men would no doubt take it as an offer to defend themselves and despite ho skilled Connor was they had many guns and numbers on their side. If they chose to attack he might have a chance but it was slim. These men would not be like the tenderfoot Redcoats, they knew these lands better and were tougher to read, and for that very reason Connor had often been grateful they were his allies and not his enemies.
As soon as he got closer he heard the men go silent and the wind wafted the scent of fear toward him. They knew he was there but thankfully they were willing to take a chance he was neutral party. They were wrong but otherwise they had no reason to fear him.
"Who goes there? Show yourself or we'll fill you with lead!" The tone was harsh but secure and for a brief moment Connor felt a hint of fear, these men would shoot him if they had inkling to do it. Still, he trusted their training to ask first then shoot would win out as he stepped into view.
He lifted his hands to show an obvious sign of submission and that he had no desire to fight even though he was armed and he took a moment to look around at the faces he saw now. These men were rough looking with leathery skin, thicker beards, and tattered uniforms. They'd seen the frontlines of this war no doubt and more than likely also developed a paranoia of strangers.
"Do not be afraid my friends, I don't come to harm or with will favour. I am part of George Washington's army, he is a friend."
Connor spoke in a smooth calm tone and even though it was partially a lie—Washington wasn't a 'friend' per-say—these men didn't know that. In fact the fact a 'savage' man knew of their General seemed to satisfy their curiosity and they stood down if only slightly.