It was after lunch when Connor and I headed into the forest for some target practice. I told Achilles what we had planned. He was fine with it, provided it didn't interfere with my chores. I knew by 'chores' he meant his meals. I promised it wouldn't.

Connor gave me his old bow to use. It was more slender and shorter than his current one. It was also aged and plain. I asked him why I couldn't use his. It had a pretty design and a nicer grip.

"The draw weight is suited to my strength," he told me.

I wasn't sure what he meant by that. I had the notion all bows were the same. "You're just afraid I'll break it," I muttered.

Connor chuckled. "You will not break it. I doubt you would even be able to pull the string enough to fit an arrow."

"Really?" I said offensively. "You think I'm weak because I'm a woman?"

"No."

"That's what it sounds like."

Connor sighed. "Very well," he said. "Prove me wrong."

We exchanged bows. His was quite a bit heavier than the one he'd given me. I lifted it and pulled the string. Or tried to. It was very taught. I only managed to move it about six inches. I gave the bow back to Connor. He grinned at me as he handed me the other one.

"You were right," I said quietly.

He was gentlemanly enough to not gloat, and accepted the comment with only a shrug.

Before Connor would give me an arrow, he lectured me on how to properly hold the bow. He suggested I keep it raised to eye level to help with my aim. I found it harder to ready it when I held it that way, but I did as he said. I understood why Connor had told me to wear my hair back when I released the string. As close as it was to my face, it would be easy for my hair to get attached to the string. I wondered if that's why he wore his the way he did.

The first arrow I fired didn't go very far. I found the technique involved more difficult than I had thought.

"Well, that sucked," I admitted.

Connor looked at me. "If that means you did poorly, I agree."

"Shut up," I told him jokingly.

"Retrieve the arrow and try again."

I walked the few feet, picked up the arrow and walked back to my position.

"Remember to keep a good grip on the bow as you release," Connor advised. "And only steady the arrow with your back hand. Rest it on your front, but do not hold it. And aim high to account for the arch."

I did as he said. I adjusted my hands and steadied them. I sighted for a moment before releasing. The arrow went a couple yards and nailed a slim birch tree. Connor looked at me.

"That was good."

"I was actually aiming for the oak behind that one," I told him.

"Then you require more practice."

I started to give him a sarcastic response, but changed my mind. Instead, I went and got the arrow and begin again. Our session lasted about two hours. By the end of it, my arms were sore and tired. Connor said it wasn't bad for my first day and that we would pick up where we left off tomorrow if I wanted. I told him I did. As we started to go back to the house, I remembered that I had never seen him use his bow up close before. I asked him if he would show me how it was suppose to be done. He nodded. He got his bow and looked around for a target.

"Do you see that maple tree?" he asked.

I squinted and nodded. It had to be a good twenty feet away.

"Keep your eyes on the orange leaf on the lowest branch," he said.

I looked where he told me to. There were a few orange leaves on the lowest branch. I didn't focus on any certain one, I just kind of watched them all. Connor readied his arrow, barely took a second to aim and fired. The leaf at the center of the tree disappeared.

"Damn," I breathed. "You're better than Green Arrow."

"What?"

I told him a bit about the superhero I used to read about, told him that he was the best archer in the world. When Connor understood it was a compliment, he nodded and thanked me.

"I am sure that there are people better than I am," he stated modestly. "But not many."

I smiled. "Wow. You're not the least bit conceited, are you?"

He considered. "I am only being honest."

I laughed and we began to walk home.

"How long have you used a bow?" I asked him.

"Since I was old enough to hold one," he replied. "I was raised to be a hunter."

"In your village?"

Connor nodded. "It is called Kanatahseton. My people are Kanien'keha:ka, The People of the Flint."

I didn't know much about Indians and found what he was saying to be quite interesting.

"Do many people in your tribe speak English? Or did Achilles teach you that, too?"

"Most of my people speak Kanien'keha," Connor told me. "But it was my mother who taught me English, not the old man."

"You speak it pretty good," I said.

Connor grinned. I suppose it was the incorrect adverb I had used. "Better than you," he murmured.

"I can speak proper English," I told him. "But I prefer slang."

"You know that complicates the language for the learner?"

I nodded. "That's why English is the hardest language to master."

We walked for a bit and he glanced at me. "Do you speak any other languages?"

I shook my head. "I can say a few words in Italian, Spanish and French. Mostly swear words, though. But I do speak fluent geek."

Connor frowned. "What is geek?"

"The language of smart, unpopular kids who read too much," I muttered.

"You mean outcasts?" he questioned.

I nodded.

"I understand that language," he said. "I am an outcast as well."

I glanced at him. I had never thought he felt that way. He always acted so confident. I had forgotten that in this time period, most natives were thought of as heathens and savages. Everyone on the homestead accepted Connor. But I doubted it was like that everywhere he went. I remembered the incident with the man at the store. I wondered if it was like that everywhere Connor went. Or if it got worse in the larger cities. The harsh words, the derogatory comments. It irritated me that people could be so racist. Connor was a nice guy. He didn't deserve to be treated such disrespect just because his skin was a different color. I personally found his tanned complexion beautiful. It made me jealous. I could achieve a nice color when I sunbathed, but I really didn't have the time.

"Well, I think you're cool," I told him.

Connor eyed me, trying to decided if I was complimenting him. I smiled at the confusion on his face. "That means I like you," I said.

"Oh," he murmured. "Then I suppose I think you are cool, as well."

I laughed at him and he frowned at me.

"Was I not suppose to say that?" he asked.

"No," I said. "The lingo just sounds really weird coming from you."

"Why?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Because you're always so proper," I told him. "You don't use contractions, you're smart, you always speak so nonchalantly. I'm just not used to hearing you use non-standard speech."

A small grin formed on his face. "I would probably feel the same about hearing you speak the way I do."

I looked at Connor, thinking that he could actually be fun to be around. He was more relaxed now than I'd ever seen him. More like a normal teenage boy. I wouldn't mind hanging out with him more if he could act this way all the time.

"I do not doubt that," I told him in a tone like the one he often used.

"Don't mock me," he muttered in return.

I felt comfortable enough to give him a playful shove and he grinned at me.

We arrived back at the house. I paused before going in and looked at him. "What do you want for supper?"

"Deer.," he answered casually.