Hugging her knees to her chest, Regina watches as Robin sharpens the ends of his arrows with a rock-pulling them one by one from the quiver and rubbing them until their points are sharpened, then tucking them back into their place. In some ways, it's mesmerizing watching him-though, she's not sure that it's him so much as it is that he's the only thing to provide any sort of entertainment. But she can't help but notice how focused he is, how much attention he pays to detail, and how nimble his fingers are.

"When did you learn that?"

"Hm?" he asks, not looking up at her. "Learn what?"

"That," she says, gesturing toward the rock and arrow. "When did you learn to… um… sharpen…" Her voice falters and then it trails off as he looks up at her and grins, and almost as soon as he does, her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I suppose that was a stupid question. Who doesn't know how to sharpen a knife on-"

"I told you a Wampanoag woman took pity on me and raised me?"

"Yes."

He laughs a little. "She calls me Adahy sometimes as a sort of nickname. It means 'Boy who lives in the woods.'" A grin twists onto her lips. "It's quite appropriate. I am a boy who lives in the woods."

"Of course."

"Well, when she took me in, the others were quite leery of me."

"But you were just a child. You-"

"Even then, I understood," Robin cuts in. "Anaba-the widow-and her brother, Askuwheteau, lived through King Philip's War and-"

"Oh-" She grimaces. Everyone knew about that because men like her husband constantly referred to it, using it as if proof of their superiority. "That's right."

"Askuwheteau is a watchman," Robin explains. "He's the one who taught me how to shoot."

Regina nods, biting down on her lip. "Are you very close with them?"

"They raised me."

"Oh, right-"

"I know that doesn't always mean close, though," he says, his voice suddenly gentler as her cheeks flush. "But, yes, I am quite close with both of them."

She envies that, she thinks-and then, she realizes how crass that seems.

Her life had always been one of privilege and here she was feeling envious of someone who'd lost his parents at a young age, then mistreated by the one whose care he'd been left in. From there, he'd been on his own and then taken in by strangers from another land and culture-then, as it seemed his life was finally coming together, once again, he lost it all.

She didn't have a right to complain. Though her life was far from perfect and she'd faced her share of hardships, she'd at least faced them in comfort.

Well, up until now…

"Do you hunt?" His brow furrows as his eyes meet hers. "I mean, with, um… the arrows."

"Yes," he says easily. "When it's my turn."

She nods, shifting awkwardly at her poor attempt to move the conversation, and then she feels a grin tugging up at her lips as she thinks of Robin hunting which only leads to her remembering him flailing and screaming as a tiny bat fluttered away from him-and then, suddenly, she's laughing.

"Is that… um… a surprise to you? Me hunting, that is?"

"No," she manages to say, her face scrunching up as she tries to stop her laugh. "I just-"

Robin bristles and his shoulder square. "I'll have you know that I am a damn good shot. I never-"

"Hunt bats?"

He stops and his eyes widen indignantly, his jaw tensing. "No one hunts bats."

She nods, and a little snicker squeaks out of her. "Right."

"They're fruit bats, they-"

"Wouldn't hurt a fly?"

Again, his eyes widen as if he's lost his point. "I was taken by surprise. That's-"

"Of course," she cuts in, giggling to herself. "That was it."

Robin blinks, huffling slightly as his arms cross. "It was dark and… and those things bite and-"

"Turn people into vampires?"

She giggles when his jaw tightens further. "They've been known to suck blood and-"

"That's a myth."

"It isn't."

"Well, it isn't if you're an apple or maybe a sunflower." Robin just stares at her for a moment before shaking his head and looking away, and she feels guilt pang at her core, wondering if she's taken it too far. "Robin, I'm-"

"Look, just because you're a witch and you like hanging around creatures of the night, doesn't mean the rest of us do." He manages through it with a straight face, and then just as she's wondering if this is really something they're going to argue about, a grin twists onto his lips, and his blue eyes shine as his laugh rings out. "I'm sure I looked like an absolute fool."

Nodding, Regina giggles. "We all have our moments."

"Something tells me you don't."

"No?"

"No," he replies. "You seem so graceful and-"

"I'm not sure anyone's ever said that I have any degree of grace," she tells him, her smile fading slightly as she thinks of all the times Leopold reminded her of the evilness in her heart, and how she would soon be damned to hell. "Quite the contrary, actually."

"From where I'm standing, you've plenty of grace and poise and… goodness."

Her cheeks warm. "You… sound as though you might be fond of me."

"Well, that's because I am."

Her brows arch. "You don't know-"

"I know you well enough to know that I'm fond of you."

"Well, I suppose, um… given what we did this afternoon... we, um…"

Robin grins and chuckles softly. "We had to stay warm somehow, right?"

"Is that what we were doing?"

"Well, weren't you warm? I certainly was and-" Regina laughs out suddenly, and his voice comes to an abrupt stop, his head tipping to the side. "What? What's so funny? I was-"

"I just… I don't think I've ever met someone like you."

At that, Robin practically beams. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," she tells him. "I just… I can't believe how easily you disregard all of the things that would have everyone else quaking in their boots and fearing their own damnation." Shrugging, she lets her eyes meet his. "It's… refreshing to be looked at without judgement or scorn or… whatever other ways people look at me."

"I… live by my own rules," he tells her. "I always have."

She nods. "I suppose you would have had to."

"And, it seems, you've done the same."

Regina blinks. No one had ever framed her choices that way. "Yes," she murmurs. "I suppose that's true."

Reaching out, Robin takes her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. She's not sure what it is, but the gesture has her blushing and looking away, and then sensing her discomfort, he lets go of her hand and settles back against the cellar wall.

"The Wampanoag aren't far. Just a few miles," he tells her. "That's our destination."

"You're going to… take me to them?"

"They won't hurt you. They're-"

"No," she cuts in. "That's not what I meant. I just… they mean so much to you."

"Which is why that's where I'm taking you. They'll hide you if-"

"Robin, I don't know if-"

"No one will look for you there." She blinks. It's true enough. She can't imagine Leopold giving them enough credit to aid and abet an escaped convict, and he can't imagine he'd give her the credit to think of hiding amongst them in plain sight. "You, um… you don't have to stay forever, but it'll give you time to… um…" He shrugs and beneath his stubbly cheeks, she thinks she sees his skin flushing slightly. "Well, I suppose that's not for me to decide. It's not my concern what you decide to do after."

"No," she murmurs, feeling an odd stirring in her chest that she doesn't quite understand. "It isn't."

"Eventually, they'll stop looking, and you can… figure out your next move." Taking a breath, he looks to the cellar doors. "It's dark."

"It is," she replies, nodding and following his gaze. "Should we-"

"Yes, I suppose we should," he answers a bit reluctantly, but taking in another breath he rises to his feet. "I'm sure you can't wait to get out of this damp cellar."

Swallowing, she can't help but think of how wrong he is, but can't find the words to express why that is. So, she lies and agrees that she can hardly stand another moment in the cellar and can't wait to take in the cool, fresh air-and then, he goes through a plan that she barely pays attention to.

He explains the route in detail, assuring her that he'll hold her hand so that they don't get separated-and then, as he pulls his quiver onto his back, her stomach flops and she follows him up the dark stairs. The cold night air hits her face as they emerge from the cellar, and her heart pounds wildly as his fingers curl around her hand as they steal away into to night, barely able to see the path in front of them through the thickness of the trees.

Then, as they wind around the curve of a path toward the river, a light catches her eye.

Robin comes to a halt and his fingers tighten around her hand as her ankles dig into the earth beneath her, and as she looks around, she finds that they're surrounded. Tears sting in her eyes as the man with the lantern comes forward and when she sees Leopold's hard angry eyes in the light, her breath catches in her chest-and then, as Robin is ripped away from her, she lets out a scream that echoes through the woods.

She cries out his name and tries to break free from Leopold's hold, but she knows that it's no use and struggling will only make them angrier-and if she lets them know how much she cares, it'll only be that much worse for Robin.

So, she stops and lets them take him.