It was quiet. Too quiet.

The trees which appeared welcoming and picturesque during the day cast looming shadows and appeared extremely daunting. A single, lithe figure moved in a ghostlike state through the grove, joining, matching and melting into the shadows. The figure wore black and their face was masked. A sword was strapped to their side and there were undoubtedly other concealed weapons. The figure kept sweeping their eyes on the immediate and distant surrounding territory.

The birds were asleep, the wind still and the sky clouded … the usual nocturnal life was no where insight and that was definitely a problem. It was quiet. Too quiet.

The night should have been filled with the sounds of the night creature leaving their homes, scavenging what they could for food and simply moving, but they weren't and that meant only one thing; someone was there; someone was watching but the question was; Where?

The figure treaded silently trying to make as little sound as possible, so as to not alert their unknown companion of their presence.

A twig snapped to the right.

The figure paused.

Momentarily listening for any other sounds of movement, when there was clearly none they cautiously they took another step. Something swung from the left and the metallic clashing of swords was heard throughout the wood.

The assailant swung again, only to once again be blocked. Going on the offensive, the figure began to in turn attack their assailant, parrying and thrusting with great skill, patience and precision. Determined eyes, filled with the spirit of battle, watched their assailant for any sign of weakness, while at the same time watching the forest floor for any natural or unnatural obstacles, footfalls or traps.

The fight waged on.

Both fighters clothes became damp with the perspiration, and they breathed heavily from the immense physical effort and intent concentration exerted during the fight.

The figure thrust forward only to be parried.

The assailant thrust back to be met with the same results.

All this time a third pair of eyes had been watching.

Watching for faults.

Watching for mistakes.

Watching from the sheer inability to tear their eyes away.

The battle waged on. Then in the time period it took to blink an eye the dark clad figure found their assailants weakness and moved in for the end of the battle. They swooped down kicking the assailant's legs out from under them and sending him to the ground. Effectively bringing the battle to an end.

When the assailant had recovered enough from the severe winding he had taken he looked up to find a sword at his throat.

Applause echoed from behind the duo, preformed by their watcher. His presence while instinctively known by the fighters was only now acknowledged as both swung their gazes in his direction.

He stepped forward into a moon beam which had managed to safely breech the dense treetop canopy. "Bravo. Well done Knight you may remove you assailants mask."

The Figure smiled and then to the surprise of the 'assailant' spoke, the voice was definitely female. "No need uncle. It was obvious by the amount of noise he made that my so-called assailant is Jeffrey.

The figure then removed their own mask to reveal…Ichigo. She was grinning cheekily at flabbergasted Sir Jeffrey.

Keichierro shook his head, how she always knew who her assailants were, was not something he had taught her, but if he had to logically examine the most probable origin of the gift he would say that she had inherited some of her poor mothers gift. The gift which had endeared her to her father and disgusted the public. "Ichigo, help Sir Jeffrey up I think he has deserves that much at least, and possibly dinner. It's not everyday h ha such a work out."

Ichigo grinned a mischieveous twinkle becoming apparent in her eye. " I suppose you didn't tell him who he was attacking, and now yo hope to soothe the poor mans ego." Keichierro glared meaningly at his niece. Seeing this Ichigo laughed. "No need to look so disapproving Uncle, Sir Jeffrey can hardly think less of me for stating the obvious.'

Turning to face the ,until now, Sir Jeffrey. Leaning forward having tucked her mask into her waist band