(A/N) No, you are not hallucinating! This is a real update! Hoo-bloody-ray!

Thankies for all the reviews! I know I have been such a lazy ass recently. I do not really have an excuse either. I have had plenty of time to write but I just have not had the motivation. Everything is sweet now…and if those invisible readers could pop in with a few words, that would be great. Anyways. Thanks to all my reviewers and readers - please review! Even if you don't, just for reading this, you all get mini Rhindon look-alikes.

Disclaimer-This disclaimer has been cancelled due to the fact that Peter and Edmund are hiding under the bed after hearing the screams of rabid fan girls and the rest of my characters are trying to coax them out.


Sabra closed her eyes, watching images play across the inside of her eyelids. Her clothes were still damp from the time she had dismounted to help Andrew across the Winding Arrow river. By now, it was already daytime and Stubby had been safely stowed away in one of the saddlebags. She thought about what she'd be doing if she was back home; probably being bugged by her mother to get out of bed and then, her little brother would be summoned to wake her up by any means possible. Knowing him, it would probably involve cymbals, icy cold water, and a video camera. Sabra smiled slightly. The rhythmic shifting of Andrew's saddle was soothing, rocking her to sleep, and she dreamt of home and friends.

Suddenly she felt as if she was falling through the air and upon opening her eyes, she found out that she truly was falling and braced herself for her impact with the forest floor. She hit the ground with a grunt, landing on her posterior even though she had been given horse-riding lessons and had been thought how to land on her feet. She groaned, trying to pull herself up with the aid of Andrew, her now aching backside joined her sore thighs.

"Alright, Andrew," she gasped. "Let's stop and rest for awhile. After all, we've been riding non-stop for two days and have probably just passed out of Archenland."

Andrew whinnied in assent and Sabra proceeded to strip him of his tack, rubbed him down, and then produced an apple out of a saddlebag for him to eat. Listening to the crunching noises that were strangely comforting, she settled back on the ground, taking care to favour the sore parts of her body. Closing her eyes again, she saw, yet again, her family and friends, and she thought about how much she missed them. Sabra drifted off to sleep drowning in the sea of feelings and recollections of the world she came from, the world that seemed so far away.

She was jolted back into consciousness by Andrew, said horse tugging on her dress.

"Have you the brain worms?" she murmured groggily, a tad irritated at being roused from her sleep…again. "Whashappenin'?"

Andrew replied with a worried whinny. "I can hear something, my lady. I fear there might be somethi-one out there." He snorted in obvious discomfort.

Sabra quickly rose to her feet, all traces of drowsiness gone. "Are you sure you heard something, Andrew? I wasn't aware horses had such a keen sense of hearing."

Andrew just stamped his front hoof and gave her a look only a horse could. "I would suggest that you hide, my lady Sabra," he suggested pointedly.

"And where should I hide? Under a rock?"

"Up in a tree," Andrew countered, as if it was the most logical hiding place in the world.

Recalling her last two experiences in trees and their…disastrous outcomes, she exclaimed, "Are you crazy, horse?" Deciding not to mention her newly begotten phobia of trees, she started tacking the horse up, if only to humour him.

She heard a branch snap. 'Maybe Andrew was right,' she thought as she hoisted herself into the saddle. She rummaged in the saddle bag for a weapon. Her fingers closed over something she took to be her dagger and she pulled it out, only to find it was…Stubby. Ah well.

She clicked her tongue and pulled Andrew's reins, preparing to ride off into the sunset, or whatever, but they were too slow. A full grown man burst out of the bushes into the clearing, crossbow loaded and (surprise, surprise) pointed at her.

"Do not move." He said in a rumbling voice that sounded somewhat familiar, but she pushed that aside.

The horse and his girl obeyed, but, strangely, the man did not pull the trigger instead dropping the crossbow onto the grass, staring at her in stupefaction.

Sabra took the chance, and pulling her hand back, she launched Stubby at the man with the blessing, "Serve me well, Stubby!"

The man moved his head a fraction to the left and Stubby sailed pass him.

Sabra muttered profanity under her breath.

"What sorcery is this?" she heard him murmur. He walked closer.

"Stay back, I've got another one," she lied.

"It's going to take more than a candle to finish me off, Sabra," he said wryly.

"I mean it, the next one will hit your head – Wait a minute, how do you know my name?" Her eyes widened as something dawned on her. She rummaged in the saddle bag once more and this time her aim was true; an apple connected with his forehead. ("Nice shot, my lady.") "If Peter sent you, you can tell him I'm NOT coming back!"

"Will you quit it, Sabra, it's Zack."

"The Zack I knew wasn't so…old." Strangely, he did actually look a little like her friend. "Prove that you really are who you say you are."

His forefinger was directed at the amulet around her neck. "That amulet is an heirloom of your grandmother's."

"Lucky guess."

"Okayy…Veet then." He shrugged.

"Excuse me?"

"Veet…you stuffed it in that…that girl's shampoo, or conditioner, or whatever."

She still could not believe it. "There's no way you can be Zack."

"How about the time I skateboarded into the library? Don't you remember the librarian dropping 12 sets of dictionaries on my head?" At this he swept up his fringe to reveal a thin streak of a long, but faded scar. (The author realises she is walking a fine line between fandoms now.)

Sabra slid off Andrew ungracefully, and approached the man warily. "Oh my God, you really are Zack." She frowned. "But why are you so old?"

"Perhaps it would be wiser to discuss this when we are safe indoors." Zack said, looking around warily. "We are not entirely safe out here in the forest. There are rumours that there is an army somewhere in Narnia and at its head a man who would stop at nothing to --"

His voice was taking on a storyteller-like tone and she decided that it would be best to interrupt him before he gathered steam. She agreed to go back to his house with him, which was in a small city not far from there. As Zack bent down to pick up his crossbow, Sabra walked a little way into the bushes and bent down, apparently looking for something.

"What are you doing, my lady?" Andrew asked.

She did not say anything, but lifted the newly found Stubby into the air. She caught Zack's questioning look and introduced him to her candlestick. The man chuckled. He had forgotten how Sabra liked to give names to inanimate objects, and pulled her into a bear hug. Sabra, though slightly surprised, returned the gesture thankful to have found him.

They were interrupted by a sound that sounded like a cross between a whinny and a cough from Andrew, who told them both that if they intended to get out of the forest today, it would be best if they were to get going. After hurried introductions between the horse and Zack, the three of them, (four, if Stubby was to be counted) made their way out of the forest, towards Zack's home.