After the fight we'd had, I gave up on Connor training me to use a bow. We didn't say more than two words to each other the first few days he was home. We passed by each other without comment and only spoke in short replies when we were forced to. Achilles acted as though nothing had happened and refused to listen when I wanted to talk to him about the argument.

"I won't take sides," he said. "I'm not interested in which of you was right and which was wrong. Reconcile your differences yourselves or continue to ignore each other. I don't give a damn which. But leave me out of it."

His refusal irritated me so much because Achilles was the only person I had to talk to. But he didn't want me to talk to him. After that, I wasn't in the mood to be around him or Connor. I began to take walks in the woods. I remembered what Connor said about it being dangerous, so I carried a kitchen knife with me when I went. I sometimes only went as far as the back yard, staring at the water beneath the cliff. Sometimes I went all the way to neighbors' and spent time with Lance, Dianna or the boys. Other times, I just wondered around the forest.

The weather was becoming nice. The wind was still chilly, but the icy cold had left. It rained quite a bit, so the forest floor was mostly muddy and slick. The trees were beginning to get some color to them and the plants were blooming. It was a beautiful sight.

I sat down by the stream and listened to the sounds of nature, letting them bring me peace. I loved being out here. It was relaxing. I rested my back on a large rock and looked around. I noticed a deer in the clearing a few yards away. I watched it graze. It perked it's head up every so often and looked around between bites of grass.

After a few minutes, the doe stood abruptly. She must have heard something. She looked startled. She let out a noise and began to run back toward the woods. After a few feet, she fell over. She struggled, trying to get back up for a moment, then stilled and moved no more. A familiar man in a white and blue coat approached the deer. He knelt next to her. His hand gripped the arrow protruding from her neck and yanked it out. He paused for a moment and looked in my direction. His hood and the distance made it impossible for me to see Connor's face. But I know he saw me. He was still for a few breaths, then stood up. He lifted his kill and began to walk back toward home.

I had repaired the back door as soon as the snow had melted. It was nice to be able to get to the pump without having to go all the way around the house. What wasn't so nice was going out to get water and seeing a headless deer hanging upside down in the back yard as Connor skinned it. I made a face at the scene.

"Can't you do that some place else?" I asked him.

Connor only glanced at me, failing to respond. He went back to cutting the flesh off the deer, ignoring me completely.

"That's disgusting," I told him.

"Then do not watch," he replied, without looking at me.

I huffed and began to look for the bucked I'd left by the pump earlier earlier that morning. It took me a few minuted, but I finally found it. Beneath the deer and filled with blood.

"Dammit, Connor!" I stated. "I use that bucket for water."

He looked up at me. "It can still be used for water, Faith."

I glared at him. "But I need it now."

Connor picked up the pale, dumped the blood out of it and held it out to me. "Here. I am done with it."

I didn't take it. "I'm not touching that," I told him.

Connor sighed loudly, and muttered something in Mohawk. He went over the pump and began to rinse out the bucket. Then he walked over to me and held it out again. "It is clean now," he said in a tense voice.

I crossed my arms, giving him a hard stare.

"Stop acting like a child," he said.

"Stop acting like an ass," I returned.

"Faith," he spoke in an exasperated tone. "I washed it so that you can use it."

"You didn't wash it," I told him. "You rinsed it out."

"What is the difference?"

I glanced down and said nothing. I realized he was trying to be nice in whatever way he knew how. I felt he owed me more than just a halfhearted attempt to clean a pale, but I took it anyhow. I guess it didn't really matter what had been in it before. I was only using it for dishwater right now.

Connor went back to cleaning his doe. I looked at him. Even after his effort to mend fences, I couldn't keep from vocalizing my irritation.

"Don't expect me to cook that for you," I said.

I heard him emit a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl and he stood up. He turned to me with agitation. "Do you ever grow weary of arguing?"

"I wasn't trying to argue," I said. "I was..."

I couldn't think of anything to say because he was right. I had been continuing the argument. I looked at the bucket in my hands then back at him.

"You want me to apologize again?" I asked. "Fine. I'm sorry."

Connor gazed at me. "That was not sincere."

I groaned in frustration. "I'll tell you what, when you apologize for yelling at me then I'll apologize to you for playing with your knife."

His expression became one of stubborn refusal. "I do not owe you an apology," he said. "I had every right to yell at you."

"Oh my God," I stated. "You really are an ass."

Connor gave me a stern glare. He walked over to where I stood and looked down at me. "Do you not understand the importance of respect? Did you not consider how I would react when awakened to the sound of a blade being drawn? I do not take such things lightly, Faith. You should consider yourself lucky I did no more than raise my voice at you."

I silently wondered if he was right, but refused to let myself think he was. As a warrior, perhaps anger was his go-to response for such situations. But still, he had not been in danger. He should have known that.

"So, it's disrespectful to look at someone's stuff while they're asleep, but not to shout at them?" I returned.

Connor glanced away. I could tell I had made my point. But I didn't know how much good it would do. That his next words were in agreement almost shocked me.

"I may have overreacted," Connor muttered.

"You think?" I responded sardonically.

Connor frowned at me. I suppose I should have just stayed quiet. He never took well to sarcasm. He as far too literal. I hoped he would just choose to ignore my words, as he usually did.

After a moment, he did.

"I am sorry I yelled at you," he said.

"I forgive you," I replied. "And I'm sorry I looked at your hidden blade without asking you first."

Connor gave me a barely noticeable grin. "I forgive you."

With things back to as normal as they got, I began to fill the bucket with water. Connor went back to cleaning his deer. We glanced at each other occasionally. But neither of us said anything until I was ready to go back inside. Then I looked at him.

"You-you remember how you said you would teach me to use a bow?"

Connor turned to me. "Yes," he said. "Do you still wish to learn?"

I nodded.

"Okay. Then lessons will begin tomorrow."

I smiled and went back inside to fix supper.