A single gunshot resounded- one was all it took this time. I ran over to the dead animal with a childish excitement, which faded the moment I looked closely at my kill. I wrinkled my nose at the vile smell of blood and hot flesh, and backed away, disgusted.

Fran walked right past me and knelt beside the dead animal, then put her bow down and touched the bloody pelt with her bare hands.

"You couldn't have aimed for the head?" She asked, her ears twitching irritably.

"I was." I muttered, crossing my arms. The bullet wound was right in its side, ruining the pelt, and a good portion of the meat that Fran planned to take back with us. She took a knife from her pocket and the blade hover above the animal's stomach. She then looked to me and offered the handle of the blade to me.

"Have you never cut meat from an animal?" I shook my head, one hand pressed against my lips as casually as possible. Didn't viera have a better sense of smell? Did that rotting flesh smell not bother her at all? "You should learn." Oh Gods, she was going to make me cut it. I didn't even have gloves.

I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining the many plays I'd seen where the leading man was not afraid of blood. No, he wiped it on the knees of his pants as if it were dust. I opened my eyes again and took the blade.

"It will be easiest if you cut from the gunshot wound down, since the pelt is already torn." I rolled up my sleeves and nodded.

"Simple, enough." I lied. I gripped a fistful of bristly fur and dunked the blade under the skin. There was an awful tearing sound, and I felt bile rising from my throat.

Leading man, leading man, leading man.

My mental exercises tricked me for another minute, in which I quickly cut the pelt from shoulder to hip. Fran motioned for me to move aside, and took the knife from me so she could cut the exposed flesh into neat squares of meat. I stood, closing my eyes and inhaling the fresh wind, letting it blow my nausea away.

Fran finished cutting the wolf into a dozen neat little squares and wrapped them in a cloth. I was feeling taller now. Tougher. With the boost of confidence, I offered to carry our kill.

"Allow me." I said, opening a hand and holding it beside the bag. She did not hesitate to pass the bag over to me, and my muscles instantly strained. How had she been carrying it so casually? If felt like I was toting the whole wolf over my shoulder!

I heard a strange sound come from Fran. Similar to a cough, but the sound had been produced through her nose instead of her mouth. I looked to her, and she looked away, as if she'd been staring at me only a moment ago. Her dark lips were upturned just slightly.

My eyebrows flew up when I realized what the sound had been, and I turned my smile towards the open desert.

Fran had her first laugh at me. And I was surprisingly fine with it.

It was like Ffamran was trying to look silly. The way he'd been choking on his own tongue as he cut the wolf, or how he struggled with the weight of the meat and contorted his face as if it would ease the strain. But the humorous part, was that he had no such intention. I hadn't laughed, no matter how avidly he would later argue that I did. I had been amused, yes, but just that. Humes were easy to watch and feel superior towards.

We reached the place where I'd landed the ship, but I only saw an expanses of sand. I dropped the meat to the ground.

"Fran…?"

"There is no need for dramatics." She said, walking past me. I hung my head and shook it.

"Of course not. Only the ship is missing." She smiled at me, just a little.

"That is what one is supposed to think." She reached up and put her hand around something. To me, it looked as if she were grasping thin air, but her long fingers made a distinct fist. With another tug, I saw something as well. The ship's tether!

"A cloaking device?" I gasped, running forward to feel the invisible rope as well. I tugged, and watches as it came into view with each pull. "Amazing!" The stairwell slowly lowered- like a staircase leading into the sky. I started up it then spun around. "My Dear Fran, you thought of everything." I thought she might have smiled.

I tried to help Fran store the meat, feeling more and more confident that our relationship was moving in a better direction. And then she stepped on my foot with that needle-thin heel of hers.

"Gods, Fran!" She turned her head to see me, smacking me with her hair like a silver whip.

"You are in the way."

"Well maybe you should have left some more space in your design." Her crimson-brown eyes narrowed.

"This was meant to only house one." I crossed my arms and backed away.

"Well, we'll just have to make do with what little space we have."

"I designed this ship on my own." She said. "This construction was born on a paper canvas and charcoal. Then it grew into pen, measured with dozens of intersecting lines, and gained its first color and texture in the form of silver alloy melted onto a skeleton." She was describing it like it was her child. But vieras did not have infants. They were all sisters, from what the rumors sounded like. Yet she described it with enough detail. Ha, and I had tried to kidnap her daughter from her. When she stole it, maybe she was just trying to rescue her.

"You are staring." I realized I had been, but not to be rude. I was trying to give her my full attention. It was interesting, what she was saying.

"I suppose you are the victim of more stares than you'd like?" It was meant as a compliment…or at least a transition into another area of discussion. Instead, the cutting knife stabbed through the slab of meat and into the counter.

"Uncultured hume." She snipped, walking past me and into the room at the back of the ship.

My head swiveled to follow her, my mouth agape.

"If anything, I am not uncultured." I protested, leaning over the seat to see her. But she soon disappeared beyond the door at the end of the hall. I had yet to enter that room, but I already felt that it would be a poor decision. It was obvious Fran wanted space from me, but she didn't trust me enough to leave the ship. She thought I would steal it, just the way she had, days before.

I wanted to knock on the door, or better yet, just walk inside, and ask her quite simply what her problem was with me? I knew vieras were moody, to say the least, but I'd never been forced to share a cramped living space with one. This revelation was coming too quickly, in too much force.

I decided that patience would win her over. I'd never used the strategy before on women, all of them had responded to my advances within days. But then again, I was no longer interested in Fran in the same way that I had felt towards the other girls. Human girls….Hume females. I wanted Fran not to embrace me (though the thought of her one day doing so continued to plague my mind), but just to respect me.

…But that would take some time. Especially when she was the one who knew how to live outside of the city, as I was slowly realizing that I did not.

I scrounged the tiny kitchen for food, picking out the packaged, travel snacks with some distain. But my hunger overcame my sense of taste. Especially when none of the food was mine. I took the small package of peppermints, which were sadly the sweetest thing I could find, to my seat on the hallway bed and flopped onto the thin mattress. I could feel the metal underneath me, right through the blanket.

…I wondered if that back room could fit a second bed?

I put the heel of my hand on the desk and tapped the wood with the edge of my nail.

Of course I received stares, why would he bother to ask such an obvious question? Viera were not supposed to leave the Wood, I did, thus, I would be looked upon more frequently.

Where did I go from here? Do I allow Ffamran to claim my ship, or drive him out? The second option appealed to me more, but I also knew I would be unable to do it. Not a second time.

He would search for me even if I stole the ship away. He would manage to find me again.

I knew of a third option. One that he had suggested. One I promptly rejected, yet did not dismiss from my thoughts.

Traveling Ivalice- together.

I'm certain his request had been on a whim. He was feeling ill, not thinking clearly. It seemed odd that he would desire me as an accomplice despite my inconsistencies.

Sharing an airship would be impossible.

Yes, the both of us would be able to fit, that is, if he did not decorate his side of the room with lavish furnishings(which I had a feeling he would). But accommodation was not the issue. My desire for solitude did not mix well with his contrasting drive for answers and adventure. And trouble. Kidnapped in the name of a hume which I'd met…Ah, imagine what other misfortunes he would inflict upon me?

He was already curious for answers. About my leaving of the Wood, my mysterious lifestyle. These were answers I did not want to give, to anyone. Answers I sometimes forgot.

There was a soft snap, and I realized that I'd been plucking away at the table. Wood chips lined the desk, along with a series of indents from my nails. I frowned and flicked the chips away. I'd liked that desk.

…He would be loud.

It only took me a few strides to find him, stretched out uncomfortably in the hallway bed, with a bag of peppermints empty on his chest. He could not see me, so I let my frown crease my face more than usual.

He was like a young one, a hume which still lived alongside their parents, stealing candy from the shelves and falling asleep from boredom or sugar. I took the rest of the sweets out of the cabinets and hid them in a high shelf, one that would require heels or a stool to reach.

I would not have done so unless I was certain he would try to steal them again, in a future time.

1 Month later

I had been in quite the rush when I left my home city. My bag held mostly clothing, and a few trinkets that I could sell if need be, and which Fran had long since taken upon herself to sell. And she had apparently packed the opposite. Weapons and materials for making them. Things necessary for travel. She was accustomed to it.

As we refueled the airship in Rabanastre, she set out a roll of feathers and shafts and began fitting them together to make custom arrows. I occupied myself with the city. It was huge, the largest I'd been to since Archades. And quite beautiful. Though there was the unmistakable tension of war. High taxes on food and goods, the occasional orphan sleeping in the shade of an alley. Apparently the city was sick, with an illness that had spread during the war. As if the country needed more things to deal with.

After completing half a dozen arrows in careful detail and precision, I suggested getting foodstuffs for our trip. I had chosen the moment to speak very carefully. Only after she had finished her current task, and before she could absorb herself in the new one.

She examined me as she always did when I spoke, then rolled the arrows up and put them away.

"Supplies…Are meant for a long trip. Do we know where…" Her words were almost sarcastically strained. "We are going?" I rubbed my hand past my chin and onto my cheek as I did a small circle. It was a lovely city. Tall building everywhere…activities all around. My wandering eyes instantly found the tallest building in the city- the one with the dome toppers and windows.

"We are going to the King's palace." I declared, and our little moogle mechanic dropped his box of supplies. I leaned over the stairwell to see him.

"Oh come now, Nono, we're pirates."

"You're a bad influence, kupo!" He snapped. Of course the little 'kupo' at the end of every sentence made it impossible to take seriously.

"Of course I am. Fran? What say you?"

"That is not a trip of days. We do not yet need supplies." She wasn't even paying attention to me. I just suggested we raid the bloody Palace and she was still on the topic of supplies. But, for once, I felt like I could form an argument against her.

"Well, if my plan goes according to plan, we will need to leave the city in haste. No time to gather supplies."

"The ship is in no condition to make any sort of getaway." Fran countered. I held up a finger.

"But when it is…!" She filled her quiver loudly with the new arrows, eyeing me the whole time.

"You shall pay for them." She informed me.

"Wha- why me? They are our supplies!" She held up her own finger, mocking me.

"I was forced to purchase medical supplied after you followed me to Bhujerba."

"After I saved you." I corrected.

"My…capture did not cost a thing. You our currently five thousand gil in my debt."

"Exactly five thousand?" I asked skeptically. This kind of response of hers was almost expected now. She slowly blinked at me, which was the equivalent of a shrug.

"It is a rough estimate."

An hour later, Fran and I has scoured the city for the best pricing food and gear, and decided it was actually time to start buying things. I'd never had to be money-conscious before, but suddenly it became a deciding factor in my purchases. I hated the fact that the cheapest product were the lease effective, or long-lasting. They were, well, cheap.

Luckily, Fran knew what exactly to buy. Unluckily for me, it seemed everything I picked up, was not on that list. Like a lovely new shotgun. It was light, easy to aim, and would match my skypirate attire well. I was in the middle of a pleasant daydream of how well it would look dangling off my belt, when Fran plucked it out of my hands.

"We cannot afford that."

"But the one I have isn't even intimidating. It takes much too long to reload!"

"You can buy it after we acquire the money." My eyebrows jumped up on my forehead.

"Does this mean you're agreeing with my plan to help me raid the palace?" She paid the vendor for a pair of fingerless gloves and looked at me.

"I have nothing better to do with my time."

I smiled, and took the bags out of her arms.

We entered the aerodome, and saw that it was much more crowded now. A continental flight had just arrived, escorted by a dozen smaller ships filled with soldiers. Fran and I quickened our pace to the door that would lead us into our rented hanger.

"Hello, sister." Fran paused and looked over her shoulder, though I hadn't even heard the greeting. Two viera approached us, keeping a few yards of distance still. The smaller one had her hair in a bob, and the other in a long ponytail like Fran's, but both had their hair dyed dark brown. Even their tall ears were bathed in caramel.

"Hello. Did you need something?" Fran politely responded. The taller cocked her head, looking at Fran, then at me.

"I see you are traveling with a hume instead of your own kind."

"I left the Wood." Fran countered. "I may travel with whomever I choose." The viera smiled, but it was not a friendly one. I'd gotten a similar look from Fran many times, though not in such severity as this viera was presenting. Even I could read the malice in her eyes.

"You left the Wood you say? Yet your hair still is her color? You still cling to her. It is apparent."

The vieras' conversation was more hushed than it sounded. They spoke quietly, but I knew that even the softest of a woman's words could be as devastating as an earsplitting gunshot. What was the Wood they talked about? Wood as in trees? A forest? I was not sure.

I wanted to intervene, but Fran had not just walked away. That meant she was defending something. In this case, I suspected that it was her pride as a free viera. I could not interrupt them, no matter how I wanted to. She would never forgive me. And I wanted Fran to not have to forgive me.

"Keep your opinions among yourselves." Fran told them. She nodded to the younger viera. "I am pleased to see that you are no longer alone." The smaller viera looked down. "There is, after all, security in numbers."

She turned her back on them, and walked to me.

"Fran?" She paused at my side, looking straight ahead.

"We have much to prepare. Let us not waste time."

"Fran, what were they talking about?" I asked, knowing full well that I was verging on boundaries that I shouldn't cross. I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted to. Not knowing was killing me.

"I left the Wood, my home. I cannot return there." She looked back to where the two viera were departing. "They have done the same, yet I am the one who cannot let my past go."

"That's not…" She walked away, not waiting any longer.

I was sitting at the makeshift desk I'd set up in the hall, which also acted as a barrier to anyone who wanted to try and pass. I was examining a map of the exterior of the Palace, but to no decent conclusion. I leaned back in my chair, tapping my lips with a pencil.

"A map of the outside is no good…" I muttered, folding it up again. "I need one of the interior as well…where they keep the bloody treasure." I looked at the door to Fran's room. What was she doing, I wondered? She'd gone out earlier, and came back with a solid-colored bag, and went straight to her room.

I leaned back in my chair, facing her door, and listened. I had not ears of a viera, but I could hear something. It sounded like…well, it sounded like she was taking a bath. Had she gotten hair products? I would not blame her, and it would not surprise me. Her hair was too beautiful to dirty.

…I'm sure she would oppose me using some though. I hadn't bathed in days. It was starting to bother me.

I jumped to my feet, startled by the loud banging that came from insider her room. Nothing had seemed to break, but something heavy and metallic had been dropped.

Dark water pooled into the hallway from under the door crack.

I approached the door, trying to avoid the growing puddle. I put my ear to the door.

"Fran?" It went silent for a moment, and without thinking, for if I thought at all, I would change my mind, I turned the doorknob. I met resistance when I tried pushing the door open. Like a chair had been propped against it. "Fran. I'm coming in." That was all the warning I would give her. …All the time I would allow for her to hide whatever it was she was up to. I pushed against the door, and the infamous chair scratched along the floor until the door was wide enough for me to enter.

She hastily stood, and pulled a towel over her shoulders. I quickly averted my eyes to the floor, and found the source of the water and noise. There was a tin basin sitting on its side, spilling chocolate-colored water onto the floor. I slowly looked up, following her legs to the towel, and then her flowing, loose hair. The tips were coated and streaked with brown.

I knelt down and put the basin back upright.

"You seem to have spilled something." I carefully said. "If you let the floor soak up water, it will mold."

"The floor is not made of wood." She said.

"Oh. That's good then." I stood up, and moved the chair back behind the desk. I raised my head and looked around. What a wide room it was. "Why look, two beds." One on either side of the room, built into the curving walls. Though one was covered by weapons and hair products and maps, while the other was neatly made with white quilts. "It seems you built this ship for two after all. It seems more like a honeymooner's suite than a war ship. Maybe your boss said, build one thing, and you built what you really wanted despite that."

"Those viera were correct." She said. "I keep my hair its natural shade because I fear losing the Wood forever. If I dye my ears, then I shall never hear her again. I hesitate to do so, but I must." I caught her hand as she reached towards the dark water.

"I think that's not it at all." I said, keeping her hand steady. "I've seen a good number of women fight, and it's clear as day to me. They envy you. They envy your ability to be so free, without abiding by the normalcy." I surprised myself with how easily I analyzed it, and she seemed so as well.

I slowly reached out and touched a brown patch in her hair, and wiped some of the dye away.

"Besides…your hair is beautiful." She looked at me, then gave a silent sigh, and shifted her feet over the floor.

"I've made a mess."

"Oh, this little thing?" I said, knocking the rest of the tin over. "We'll use it to mop the floor."

"Stop spilling it, Ffamran!"

"Oh, but you said it yourself, it's not wood."

"But it is dye. It is meant to stain."

We spent the night on our knees, scrubbing the color out of the floor. She let me use the shower built into the bedroom, but we both had brown stains on our hands for a week after.