"Do you know what you are?" Much asked Robin, as they headed back to camp from their disastrous meeting with Gisbourne.

Robin remained silent, refusing to take the bait. He was in a foul temper, asking himself over and over again how Marian could have wanted to breakfast alone with Gisbourne. He was doing his best to tune out Much.

Unfazed by his master's grim silence, Much plunged ahead. "You are a nonrabbit!"

"A what?"

The ridiculous accusation had finally broken through Robin's wall. Much was pleased.

"You heard me! You are a nonrabbit! Do you want to know what that is?"

"Not particularily."

"Well, I'll tell you! The way I see it, there are two types of people in this world. Rabbits, such as myself, and nonrabbits. And you...you are a nonrabbit!"

"Good for me."

"Wh-wh-wh-what? No! Not good for you! Not good at all!"

Robin merely cocked an eyebrow and resumed his tortured musings over Marian's choice of breakfast companions.

"You're totally missing my point if you're proud of yourself for being such a...such a...such a ghastly thing as a nonrabbit! Nonrabbits are NOT something to aspire to, I think you'll find!"

Much didn't seem to notice that Robin had withdrawn again from listening. He was used to his master's silences, though he didn't like them. In fact, he hated them! But he ventured on, warm to his subject.

"Now, to explain. I, as I said before, fall into the rabbit class. Rabbits, as you know, are nice, gentle beings, who like nothing so much as to hop peacefully about in the meadow, enjoying a tasty carrot or two of an evening, and running sensibly away at the first sign of danger. That's me."

Why had Marian worn that gown so early in the morning? Robin was thinking. Was she even half aware how it clung to her curves?

"Whereas nonrabbits...oh ho! Nonrabbits do not!"

"Do not what?" Robin asked absently, just to be polite.

"I'm not saying anything!" There was a brief pause, and then the outburst. "Nonrabbits, such as you, seem to like nothing better than to rush TOWARD danger! You heard me! And THAT is why you are a nonrabbit!"

Much ended his rant with a forceful, self satisfied nod of his head. He hoped his lesson would take hold, but he knew in his heart it had no hope of doing so.

By this time they had reached the camp, and strode among their companions, Robin pretending nothing was amiss, and not fooling anyone.

"See that look on his face?" Allan asked Maggie.

"Yeah. Looks like he swallowed rotten fish."

"Yeah." Allan laughed. "That look means he had some kinda a bad time with Marian. That look means don't go near him, 'till he breaks through his gloom."

"Why? Thought you told me he was alright."

"He is. He won't hit you or nothin'. He'll just give you a look you don't wanna deal with."

"Why don't they just get it done, if they're so crazy for each other? That would end all their squabblin'. She too fine a lady to please her man?"

"He innit her man, not to her anyway. Aw, let's just leave it. Hold my sword, can't you, while I sharpen it. Whoa! Not that sword! I mean my real one!"

Allan was really enjoying having Maggie be part of the gang!

Will and Djaq and Little John quietly greeted Much and Robin, and continued their activities. Much got straight to work, cooking dinner. Robin, satisfied that all was well in his gang, told Little John he was going off by himself to practice shooting. But Lady Cecily was not about to let him leave her again. She followed him, her feet hurting dreadfully in her tattered slippers.

Robin's mind was so preoccupied, he didn't notice her following him. But after his first arrow hit a knothole in a distant tree, she made her presence obvious by clapping her hands.

"Bravo!" she cheered. "You always hit your mark, don't you, Robin?"

"I never miss," he said, matter-of-factly. "Yet I'm never certain my arrow will fly true. There are so many factors involved, shooting. I think that's why I love it so much."

"What else do you love?"

Her question took him by surprise. But he realized it shouldn't have. He knew she had been aiming figurative arrows at him, but so far, she had missed her target. So far. He wondered, after Marian's little breakfast engagement, whether he might let Lady Cecily's aim improve.

"I love," he began, "or at least I approve of, people sensible enough to wear a decent pair of boots in the forest, especially when others risked their necks to provide them."

"Forgive me. If you insist, Robin, I will wear them."

"Good." He nodded his head, noticing how her fair skin glowed like the Chinese porcelain he had seen in the Holy Land. "Would you like to learn to shoot?" he asked, uncertain how far he was willing to let this go.

"Only if you teach me."

"Who else?" he grinned at that, but his grin only lasted a moment, for he couldn't keep his mind off Marian's treachery.

Robin handed Cecily his bow and showed her the correct way to grip it. Placing himself behind her necessitated him putting both arms around her, to guide her in drawing back the bowstring. He was not at all surprised when she tilted back her face so that her lips met his.

He returned her kiss with a vengeance she mistook for passion.