Chapter 002: The Emerald Hand
The sound of clanking footsteps abruptly stopped. Closing her eyes, losing sight of her emerald colored surroundings, Robin prepared herself for the gunshot. One second, two... then three passed. Many minutes passed, as two solitary figures stood panting at the top of the winding maze of stairs and balconies. The hour hand slowly inched into its new position. As the clock struck twelve noon, Robin slowly opened her eyes and turned. Amon leaned against an iron beam approximately ten feet from where she was. She could almost see the gears of his mind turning in thought, as clearly as she could see the time click by within the tower. With much apprehension, they both stood. Staring. It seemed to her that he was in just as much shock as she. Perhaps because she had stopped her flight. How could she possibly continue without a breath of air reaching her lungs? Or, perhaps he never really expected her to tire so easily. He had never considered what he would do when he finally caught up with her.
"Why have you been running?" he asked angrily, with a hint of confusion in his voice. This question shocked her. Why? She hesitated. "Well, for the past month... you've... I...because..." She had never expected to be asked exactly why she was running. At this point, it was more of an instinctive reaction buried deep within her. Amon had saved her from danger many times before, but then again, he had hunted her with ill intent just as often... if not more. Sighing, he took a step towards her, but stopped when he noticed her struggling to untangle her dress from the beams again. "Hasn't it ever, even once, crossed your mind that the others are worried sick about you?" he snapped. "No. I don't suppose it would have..." he added in a dark, mocking tone, all concern gone from his voice. "The others?" she asked stupidly, not thinking before she spoke.
Giving her his infamous look of disdain, he lunged forward before she could react. Deftly untangling her outfit from the beam with much more efficiency than she could have managed, he grabbed her firmly by the wrist and dragged her back down the tower's winding stairs at a dangerously fast pace. By the time they had reached ground level, Robin had come to the decision that all of her attempts to hide and flee in the past month had been a complete waste of time. It had certainly caused Amon's blood pressure to rise, and she was quite sure that the others would be just as exasperated. But then why had they not come along as well? Since Amon was by far the most skilled hunter of the team, it would have been much more logical for one of the others to be chasing after her while he continued to hunt witches. Was she honestly safe in his company?
Millions of questions scrawled themselves across her mind as they walked through the city intersections. Traffic was quite heavy, but somehow that didn't stop Amon from being just as hurried as always. As they passed a clothing boutique, a little red haired girl all dressed in pink went riding by on her tricycle, sucking a lollipop. Birds were diving in and out of the way of the pedestrians, stopping to be fed a bread crumb every so often. Shop windows displayed various articles of clothing. One window held within it a huge, feathered, purple colored hat with rubies around its edge. Along side it was a hot pink sweater. Robin would have been quite content to just walk at a leisurely pace and enjoy the beautiful afternoon, but Amon was in a hurry.
Weaving in and out of the crowd, avoiding as many collisions as possible, they jogged. Soon Robin was out of breath again, and asked him to slow down. "No." he sharply responded. She waited to see whether he'd would explain, but he left it at that. So she asked. "Why not? I'm having a bit of trouble breathing...". It was quite unlike her to complain about anything, but after running for ten minutes straight, her lungs had begun to give way. A 'little' trouble breathing was most certainly an understatement. "Because..." he began, while they turned onto a new avenue. "If we don't get back to Headquarters before you are spotted by them, it would have been better if I had shot you back at that emerald clock." She looked up at him, temporarily shocked. "So, you were going to shoot me." she said dejectedly, not even bothering to be frightened again. "No." he paused for a moment to glance around them, and then continued to sprint.
"No." he said again, but for a different reason. A dark figure stood a few blocks ahead of them. Robin could tell that this ominous looking man was the source of Amon's worry, because he looked so out of place and forbidding that she was surprised that they were the only ones staring. The man was wearing all black. Well, of course that didn't bother her, but he also had a gun. Two, actually. One resting in his hand, and the other tucked into his leather belt. He was unrecognizable by any distinguishing characteristics, because not only was he wearing a wide-brimmed hat, but he wore dark sunglasses. His muddy brown hair was streaked with gray, but he couldn't be past forty. The one unusual feature was his right hand, which was wearing an emerald green glove that shone with the sun's rays every time he moved. The man had been looking upward at the third or fourth floor of the building across the street behind them, but his gaze wandered down and ensnared them. Too soon, he began steadily walking in their direction.
Cursing under his breath, Amon clamped his hand around her small wrist yet again, and their fast paced walk turned into a run as the dark stranger began his advance.
The sound of clanking footsteps abruptly stopped. Closing her eyes, losing sight of her emerald colored surroundings, Robin prepared herself for the gunshot. One second, two... then three passed. Many minutes passed, as two solitary figures stood panting at the top of the winding maze of stairs and balconies. The hour hand slowly inched into its new position. As the clock struck twelve noon, Robin slowly opened her eyes and turned. Amon leaned against an iron beam approximately ten feet from where she was. She could almost see the gears of his mind turning in thought, as clearly as she could see the time click by within the tower. With much apprehension, they both stood. Staring. It seemed to her that he was in just as much shock as she. Perhaps because she had stopped her flight. How could she possibly continue without a breath of air reaching her lungs? Or, perhaps he never really expected her to tire so easily. He had never considered what he would do when he finally caught up with her.
"Why have you been running?" he asked angrily, with a hint of confusion in his voice. This question shocked her. Why? She hesitated. "Well, for the past month... you've... I...because..." She had never expected to be asked exactly why she was running. At this point, it was more of an instinctive reaction buried deep within her. Amon had saved her from danger many times before, but then again, he had hunted her with ill intent just as often... if not more. Sighing, he took a step towards her, but stopped when he noticed her struggling to untangle her dress from the beams again. "Hasn't it ever, even once, crossed your mind that the others are worried sick about you?" he snapped. "No. I don't suppose it would have..." he added in a dark, mocking tone, all concern gone from his voice. "The others?" she asked stupidly, not thinking before she spoke.
Giving her his infamous look of disdain, he lunged forward before she could react. Deftly untangling her outfit from the beam with much more efficiency than she could have managed, he grabbed her firmly by the wrist and dragged her back down the tower's winding stairs at a dangerously fast pace. By the time they had reached ground level, Robin had come to the decision that all of her attempts to hide and flee in the past month had been a complete waste of time. It had certainly caused Amon's blood pressure to rise, and she was quite sure that the others would be just as exasperated. But then why had they not come along as well? Since Amon was by far the most skilled hunter of the team, it would have been much more logical for one of the others to be chasing after her while he continued to hunt witches. Was she honestly safe in his company?
Millions of questions scrawled themselves across her mind as they walked through the city intersections. Traffic was quite heavy, but somehow that didn't stop Amon from being just as hurried as always. As they passed a clothing boutique, a little red haired girl all dressed in pink went riding by on her tricycle, sucking a lollipop. Birds were diving in and out of the way of the pedestrians, stopping to be fed a bread crumb every so often. Shop windows displayed various articles of clothing. One window held within it a huge, feathered, purple colored hat with rubies around its edge. Along side it was a hot pink sweater. Robin would have been quite content to just walk at a leisurely pace and enjoy the beautiful afternoon, but Amon was in a hurry.
Weaving in and out of the crowd, avoiding as many collisions as possible, they jogged. Soon Robin was out of breath again, and asked him to slow down. "No." he sharply responded. She waited to see whether he'd would explain, but he left it at that. So she asked. "Why not? I'm having a bit of trouble breathing...". It was quite unlike her to complain about anything, but after running for ten minutes straight, her lungs had begun to give way. A 'little' trouble breathing was most certainly an understatement. "Because..." he began, while they turned onto a new avenue. "If we don't get back to Headquarters before you are spotted by them, it would have been better if I had shot you back at that emerald clock." She looked up at him, temporarily shocked. "So, you were going to shoot me." she said dejectedly, not even bothering to be frightened again. "No." he paused for a moment to glance around them, and then continued to sprint.
"No." he said again, but for a different reason. A dark figure stood a few blocks ahead of them. Robin could tell that this ominous looking man was the source of Amon's worry, because he looked so out of place and forbidding that she was surprised that they were the only ones staring. The man was wearing all black. Well, of course that didn't bother her, but he also had a gun. Two, actually. One resting in his hand, and the other tucked into his leather belt. He was unrecognizable by any distinguishing characteristics, because not only was he wearing a wide-brimmed hat, but he wore dark sunglasses. His muddy brown hair was streaked with gray, but he couldn't be past forty. The one unusual feature was his right hand, which was wearing an emerald green glove that shone with the sun's rays every time he moved. The man had been looking upward at the third or fourth floor of the building across the street behind them, but his gaze wandered down and ensnared them. Too soon, he began steadily walking in their direction.
Cursing under his breath, Amon clamped his hand around her small wrist yet again, and their fast paced walk turned into a run as the dark stranger began his advance.