Chapter Six, Part One;

Friends of Old and New

"Use your hand to balance the arrow," he corrected.

"Lift your arm higher."

"Widen your stance."

"Stand up straighter."

They had been at this for hours. The Assassin accepted nothing less than perfection, and though she had been better at wielding a sword and hand to hand combat, she was not as talented with a bow. Throwing knives was what she excelled at, not this new weapon that was all strength and strings and feathers in her mouth.

Slapping her abdomen lightly to get her to stand straighter, he berated her again. "No slouching," he scolded. "Engage the muscles of your core. Skill with the bow begins in the stance. You must be both strong and relaxed."

"I know," she huffed, glaring at him. "You have been telling me for the past half hour."

"I thought it would have sunk in by now," he muttered, standing back. Cora cut him a cold glance, but he ignored her.

"Try again."

Taking a deep breath, she aimed at the center of the target he had set up. She was sure she had aimed correctly this time, but when she released, the arrow fell short of even hitting the target. Cora groaned with frustration, trying to hold back from throwing the bow onto the ground as if she was having a child's tantrum.

"You are not listening," the Assassin huffed. "When you are about to release, you move your arm and slump over. That is not what I told you to do."

"It is harder than it looks," she pouted, putting her hands on her hips. "Why can't you accept that I have no talent for the bow?"

"Because Achilles has asked me to train you, and if you are going to be my partner, I want to know you have my back. You will master it."

"I am much more comfortable with my knives. Or at least the sword." Running her thumb over the smooth metal of the knives at her hip, she sighed. After rummaging through the mass collection of weapons in the basement, she had found a small stash of throwing knives that were similar to the ones she had used before. Thin and small, they were designed to be easily concealed and easily thrown through the air.

The Assassin had been obviously impressed when she had shown off her skill, but he quickly moved her to another task, intent on not letting her bask in her success. Still, she had done well with the sword and had a natural instinct for hand to hand combat. This, though... It was not nearly as easy as the Assassin had made it look.

He was obviously loosing patience with her, especially since she had begun to lose focus. The training was boring, and she did not see the need for it. She had done well enough with the skill she already had, but the old man had insisted, and she could not refuse him. It was because of him she was even able to join their little group, even if temporarily.

"We will not be done for today until you hit the target."

Groaning, she replaced the arrow, frustration taking over. As she drew, she took long slow breaths, tightening the muscles of her core. As she released, she was sure it would hit the target.

Instead, the arrow flew past it.

"This damn thing is impossible," she yelled, her voice shrill and impatient.

The Assassin snatched the bow from her, his hands working quickly. He made no attempt to hide the frustration on his face, and Cora crossed her arms, furrowing her brow as she watched him walk several yards backwards. He drew the bow with an obvious strength, releasing quickly.

Cora's eyes were latched onto the arrow as she prayed he would miss.

Instead, the arrow hit the target dead center, even plowing through the wood with all the strength he had given it. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him, completely dissatisfied with the smug look on his face. That little showoff...

Two could play at that game.

In one motion, she slipped a knife from her belt, throwing it gracefully and powerfully towards the target. It tore the shaft of the arrow in half before landing just where his had, burying itself deep in the wood.

She crossed her arms, glancing back at him with a hint of a proud smile on her face. The Assassin was obviously not pleased, and Cora took an inappropriate amount of satisfaction from the look on his face.

"That is enough for today," he muttered, making his way to the target without so much as looking at her.

"What, because I showed you up, you are finished?"

He didn't respond as he moved about the site, picking up arrows and taking down the target.

"I always knew you did not like to be bested. I suppose that is why you fight, to prove your superior skill any way you can. It is all pride, I tell you."

Connor had heard enough of that. He felt anger rise within him, and though he tried to throw a wet blanket over the beginning of the fires of his temper, still the flames prevailed.

"You know nothing of my motivations," he snapped, eyes bearing the fires of his anger.

"So why is it you fight then, if not for glory?" Placing her hands on her hips, the woman looked at him with a smug look, tipping her chin up as her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. It wasn't hard to figure out that she obviously enjoyed getting a rise out of him, and it was hard not to give her the satisfaction.

"I have no need to explain myself to you." He was practically snarling at her, and Cora's smile faded quickly, wiped away by the aggression radiating from his skin.

As he walked up to her, he seemed to grow an inch for every step – or perhaps she was shrinking. He was obviously aggravated by her behavior, and Cora silently wondered if she should have just kept her mouth shut. But how was she supposed to know? The strangest things upset him...

He got closer than she was comfortable with, and Cora had to fight the urge not to back away. His breath was hot on her face as he leaned in, his dark eyes filled with fire. Every fiber in her body was blaring a warning, urging her to retreat, but her stubborn mind did not give in. Instead, she tilted her chin up and stared into his eyes with an equal strength of will.

"You are not the only one who fights for people they love. You are not the only one who seeks to avenge those they have lost," he said in a low voice. Her eyes widened as she felt a pang of regret for her words, but before he could notice the softening of her eyes, he had turned.

"Assassin," she called out, her voice small yet sharp. He didn't turn though, choosing instead to keep walking. Sighing, she softened her tone. "I did not mean it like that."

She wasn't sure if he had heard her poor excuse for an apology, but after a few more steps he stopped and sighed, turning back with an emotionless look on his face.

"Forget it."

Long moments of silence passed between them, the air thick with discomfort as they regarded each other, unintentionally learning of the presence of emotions hidden behind the other's facade.

Connor broke the awkward stillness, clearing his throat. "Ellen wanted to see you."

"Ellen?"

"Yes. She lives here on the homestead."

"I figured as much," she said, mocking him.

Connor sighed, shaking his head at her comment. Did she always have to be so impossible?

"She is a seamstress, I suppose she wishes to provide you with some new clothes."

Cora mocked a surprised gasp, looking down at her torn, dirty clothing.

"Are you implying that I am poorly dressed? I am offended!"

Rolling his eyes, the Assassin kept going, pausing only to call back to her. "You had better get going, with your lack of skill with the bow, you will need as much training as possible."

"Yeah? Well we'll see about that."

"I guess we will."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Scoffing at him, she turned on her heels and stomped away. Oh, her misfortune... Of all the people on earth, the Assassin was the last one she would wish to spend even a moment with, and here she was forced to spent nearly all of her time with him! It was almost tragic, and she pitied herself as she wandered in the direction of Ellen's house.

For a moment, she wondered if she should have asked to accompany the Assassins at all. Perhaps she could have done it alone... No. Cora was skilled, but not that skilled. She needed the Assassins if she wished to have her part in the destruction of the Templars. If only she had known what she was getting herself into...

"Ouch!"

"I warned you to keep still," Ellen said with a small chuckle. Indeed, she had insisted on replacing Cora's tattered clothing, and suddenly she had found herself standing on a block while the woman took measurements and draped cloths over her, sticking pins in. The woman had told her to stay still, but Cora was not one for this kind of patience, and began fidgeting soon after Ellen had begun her work.

"I am not used to standing so still."

Ellen laughed, though Cora wasn't sure why - she had not been trying to be funny.

"Indeed. Do not fret, I am almost finished! Besides, I am sure you will be glad to be out of these terrible clothes!"

"I am sure I will," Cora agreed, though she really didn't care either way. Spending years of ones life in a stone cell tended not to make you care too much about appearances.

"So what brings you to our town?"

Cora sucked in a breath, intending to say something – anything – but instead she found herself swallowing any words that may have made their attempt to escape her lips. At the girl's obvious hesitation, Ellen's hands stopped their work for the shortest of moments as she took a good look at her. It was obvious the girl had been through much. The circles under her eyes, the lightest touch of yellowed skin, patterned about her neck in a series of familiar fingerprint shaped dots. A few weeks old, the bruises... But how many had come before?

Ellen felt a sudden kinship with the girl, and a protective, almost motherly instinct rose within her. She had heard plenty of rumors from the others, especially about her odd behavior at the inn, but if her suspicions were true, it was no wonder the girl was so skittish and strange.

The older woman began her work again, her experienced fingers effortlessly taking measurements and pinning fabric.

"Did Connor ever tell you how I came to live here?"

"No." Cora eyed her suspiciously, unsure why the woman was getting so personal.

"My husband was not a kind man, and a drunk at that. He was nice enough the first few years, and I was so young and foolish. By the time he became... cruel to me, I found myself with an infant to care for. And so I did what any mother would – I stayed because it was the only way I could provide for my child. Eventually I opened a tailoring shop and made my own money, but by the time I found myself strong enough to leave him, I had become a successful businesswoman. I'd be damned if I was going to leave what I had made for myself and my daughter." She stepped back, wiping the sweat from her brow before beginning to ease the pinned cloth off of Cora, carefully so as not to ruin the markers she had made.

"One day my husband was furious with me for refusing to pay for more alcohol. When he hit me, my daughter ran for help."

"I am sorry," Cora said genuinely, feeling a strong sense of sympathy for the woman.

"Ah well," Ellen said with a shrug. "Connor chased him away, offered my daughter and I a life here on the homestead. It has been wonderful. Much better than putting up with that old louse."

Cora nodded solemnly, trying to take in what the woman had shared with her. She wasn't at all used to someone sharing something so personal after they had just met... Perhaps it was common in this town.

"Connor is a good man," she commented, keeping her eyes on her work. "The people who live here are all good people."

Cora had to keep from sighing. What the hell was it with these people and the Assassin? They had some irrevocable infatuation with him that she would never understand.

Ellen set the marked fabric into her basket carefully. "Do you love him?" Her voice was gentle and her eyes understanding as she looked at the younger woman.

"Excuse me?" Her? Love the Assassin? Ha! Never had she heard a more ridiculous question...

"The man who gave you those," Ellen clarified, bringing a hand to her own neck to reference the bruises.

"Oh." Cora covered the spot with her hand self consciously, averting her eyes, embarrassed at the assumption she had made. "No." So that was why the woman had felt the need to share her story...

"Good," she said with a reassuring smile. "At least I don't have to worry about you going back."

"Trust me," Cora said with the smallest hint of a laugh. "That is the last thing you need worry about."

"You have much strength, and no one can take that away from you." Ellen placed a hand on Cora's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze before smiling broadly. "It is our duty to prevail in spite of all else. To prove ourselves capable to those who doubt us, to those who believe us weak."

"Thank you." Cora was more than thankful. The woman's reaction had been just what she needed... Not too flowery or ridden with unsought advice. Cora had always been one to grieve and have her feelings in privacy, and she always had been uncomfortable with too much sympathy, but Ellen had given her the precise reaction that actually helped. Ellen's smile widened as her eyes found something beyond Cora. She waved, beckoning someone.

"Connor!"

Oh, fantastic...

"Hello, Ellen," a deep voice said from behind. Cora crossed her arms, putting her weight on one leg as her hip popped to the side.

"We were just finishing up! I will call on you in a few days when I am ready to do another fitting," she said, addressing Cora. "And do not hesitate to come if you ever need anything."

"I will." She smiled at Ellen, missing the look that Connor gave her. Who knew the woman could actually say something genuinely?

The Assassin dropped a bag, obviously filled with money, into Ellen's hand, and Cora instantly felt her good mood vanish. Ellen smiled at him in thanks before turning to go.

"I will see you in a few days!"

Cora said goodbye, gritting her teeth as she tried to keep from lashing out at the Assassin.

As soon as they were further down the path, Connor turned to her, having recognized her tense state.

"What is the matter now?"

"You did not have to do that," she said stubbornly.

"Do what?"

"Do not play dumb with me, Assassin."

"What are you talking about?" Connor stopped, genuinely unsure what he had done to upset her this time.

"I did not know you were paying her for that!"

Confused, the Assassin cocked his head slightly. "Why would I not? Does she not deserve to be paid for her services?"

"I am not some damn charity case, alright?" She was yelling now, bordering irate.

"That is what this is about? Would it not have been charity if Ellen had done it for free?"

Cora groaned, throwing her hands up in the air as she began to stomp off. "I do not need your sympathy," she yelled back at him, adding in a few obscenities.

Connor started towards her. She wasn't getting out of this that easy...

"Look," he said, grabbing her arm to make her face him.

"Do not touch me!" Cora raised her hand as if to slap him, but stopped herself, stuffing her arms across her chest as if to keep them chained.

"It was no act of charity," he said in attempt to calm her. "Think of it as a business expense. If you are working with the Assassins, we are responsible for your well being. You cannot go on missions clothed in an old dress, anyway."

Cora was beginning to calm down and see sense in his argument, but then he had to open his big mouth again...

"Besides, it is not like it was a dent in my pocketbook."

"Oh, you..." Pushing him away, she stalked off. What a self-satisfied, arrogant, selfish, pathetic excuse for a man! Cursing him under her breath, she ignored his words and kept walking towards the manor.

"Must you find fault in everything I say?" He yelled after her to no avail – she would not acknowledge him, the stubborn wench... "We still have training to do, you know!"

She threw her hand up as she walked, dismissing him, and he let out an irritated groan. How was it that this woman seemed to know the quickest way to get a rise out of him? Oh, that woman... He had been an idiot to think they could work together!

Sighing, he tried to let the tension out of his body, continuing his walk towards the manor. Perhaps a ride would help sate his temper.

Connor was saddling his horse when he saw her coming.

"I did not think you would come," he said, keeping his eyes on the saddle as he made sure it was secure.

"I am not so proud that I would refuse to train." Crossing her arms, she looked at him, trying not to seem irritated. Already she had spent a good amount of time trying to convince herself to come down. The Assassin's smug attitude wasn't going to help her keep her will to stay. "My desire to end the Templars is stronger than my hatred of you, Assassin."

"Really?" The smallest hint of a smile flashed on his lips as he raised his eyes to her. "I was not aware that was possible."

"Are you trying to be funny, Assassin?" She raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smile on her lips.

"Am I poor at it?"

"Quite poor," she affirmed with a laugh.

Cora had not yet seen the Assassin smile, but though his lips did not show any signs, his eyes certainly held a sort of playfulness in them.

"So what shall it be today? Are you keen to watch me fail at the bow again?"

Connor considered his words. He was not in the mood to train, especially because he was sure it would end up in yet another argument. Choosing his words carefully, he skirted the question.

"Do you ride?"

Cora had to hide her smug smile. With the Templars, the little free time she had been allowed had always been spent riding. There was one horse in particular, a dark chestnut mare, who had taken a liking to her. Sometimes Cora felt as if she was her only friend, especially after Jane had left. Usually she was only allowed to ride about in the small fenced in area, but there were those few times that Oliver had let her go out with Henry. They would gallop at full speed, riding out of the city and racing through the countryside... Henry, though a skilled horseman, rarely won.

"A little," she said mischievously.

"Pick a horse," the Assassin said, gesturing to the stable.

The horses were all beautiful, but Cora's eye was instantly drawn to a dappled gray. The horse seemed to have a good temperament, and it was unsaddled – perfect for what she had planned.

Taking hold of the reins, she led the horse out to where Connor was waiting for her.

"There should be an extra saddle out in the shed," he said, motioning behind her.

Cora nodded before turning her attention to the horse. He seemed calm and friendly, eager as she stroked his neck and nose, ran her hands over his back, making him familiar with her touch.

Connor watched her intently as she murmured encouragements into the horse's ear. It was odd, to see her so gentle and patient with the animal when he was used to her being so fiery and stubborn with him. She seemed to have a way with the animal, and Connor was not so sure she was as inexperienced as she let on.

She mounted gracefully, swinging her leg across the horse's back in one smooth movement. Connor stood there gaping for a moment before she gave him a challenging smile. So she was going to be like that...

No way was he going to let her best him. Shaking his head with a hint of a smile on his face, he began to take off the saddle of his own horse as she rode in literal circles around him, getting a good feel for the horse and how it responded to her.

It had been a long time since Connor had ridden his mare bareback, and he hoped she would take well to it – she could be stubborn and easily angered, not unlike someone else he knew, but he loved the mare all the same.

"Are you ready, Assassin," Cora asked as he mounted his horse just as easily as she had.

The Assassin nodded as Cora undid her braid. Some always bound their hair when they rode, but Cora loved the feel of the wind rushing through it. Every part of her was on edge with excitement – it had been so long since she had ridden so freely.

Connor watched her shake her hair out, the dark waves cascading easily down her shoulders like draped silk. Suddenly, he felt the need to look away, as though he was watching her in an intimate situation. She was a beautiful woman, and the effects of it was not lost on him. Perhaps it was her hair, catching rays of sunlight from the evening sky, or maybe the way she had challenged him in her riding. Whatever it was, he didn't understand it. Of all people, she was the last he would consider having those feelings for...

Before he could get a firm grasp on his thoughts, she and her horse had lurched forward, leaving him in the dust. He quickly urged his mare on, determined to catch up. There was no way he would let her win.

Her laughter was so lighthearted and free, nearly bringing a smile to Connor's face. Seeing her like this, so carefree and spirited, made her seem almost human – almost like a person he could perhaps get along with. Admittedly, he had been unsure if such a side even existed in the woman. Yet how could he have believed that? He knew even within himself that though he put on a serious, unamused front, he perhaps had a side such as that buried somewhere deep within him.

"Falling behind, Assassin?" Her amused voice traveled back to him, the melody of it passing easily through the wind, drawing him away from his musings.

"Not just yet," he yelled up to her, urging his horse to go even faster.

As he passed her, her face grew frustrated, bringing a smug smile to Connor's face. Hopefully she wouldn't be too disappointed when he beat her.

Though Cora tried her best, she could not again catch up with the Assassin. When he brought his mare to a stop, Cora sighed, not looking forward to facing his self-satisfied attitude.

When they had both dismounted, Cora pointed an accusatory finger at the Assassin, who raised his eyebrows in anticipation of what she was about to say.

"Do not look so smug! If I had been riding my own horse, you would have had no chance at all!"

"Of course," he affirmed, raising his chin and looking down at her. She looked so tense and serious in her stance, her pointer finger extended towards him as she made her excuses. And then, there was that fire flashing in her eyes. So familiar it had become to him, though he had known her scarcely two weeks.

She relaxed and moved away from him, laughing at her excuses as she ran a hand over the gray's well muscled neck.

"I suppose we should head back now," she sighed, her body relaxing. "We do have training to do."

The Assassin was quiet for a few moments.

"I was going to teach you to ride, but it is evident that you do not need the help."

Cora crossed her arms, a smile touching her lips momentarily.

Admittedly, she was glad that they weren't training. She was fairly sore from all he had put her through the past few days, and she was relieved she wouldn't be making a fool of herself yet again.

"I should get back though. I have work to do."

"Alright," she sighed, disappointed at the thought of returning.

"You do not have to come with," the Assassin said. "You can do whatever you wish."

Cora looked at him, unsure how to decipher the intent of his sudden lack of aggression towards her. Perhaps things were changing between them, even if it was taking the pace of molasses.

As she watched him ride away, she crossed her arms. She still did not like him, but perhaps he wasn't as bad as she thought.

They trained hard each day, and Cora found herself completely exhausted. It had been so long since she had trained this vigorously, and her body protested every step of the way. In the heat of early summer, the two of them ended each session drenched in sweat. Though it was still only May, the first waves of heat had come quite early, made worse by the stickiness in the air that made Cora feel as if she was wearing a woolen suit that she could not take off.

Yet she pressed through the heat and the stiffness of her limbs, even somehow making it through the endless bickering with the Assassin... Though she regarded him a little more positively after their ride together, he often infuriated her. Of course, she was not totally blameless. Still it amused her to get a rise out of him, though usually her instigation only led to full fledged arguments.

That day had not been easy. The Assassin had insisted on training her with the bow, and though she was slowly gaining some skill with it, the fact that it was so difficult for her made her quite irritable. They had bickered all morning, and both went their separate ways when they had finished training, keen to get as far away from the other as possible.

It was midday when Achilles had called to them, asking them to join him downstairs. The two regarded each other coldly, and Achilles sighed, not quite in the mood to put up with their foolish antics.

"You have received a letter," he said, handing Connor a folded parchment. "From Stephane Chapheau." He watched as his eyes traveled across the paper, his face becoming solemn as he read its contents.

The woman stared at him coldly, her arms crossed as she glared at him. Achilles had thought they were getting along better, but from the ice in Cora's stare, obviously he had been mistaken. Unfortunately, he had a hunch that they would soon have to overlook their differences.

"He says that the Templars have infiltrated a fort in Boston, and they are exercising their control heavily throughout the part of the city. He wishes for help in taking it down, and has reason to believe that there is information on what their plans are, and possibly the location of Lee."

Connor looked up from the paper, his features hard and eyes focused.

"I must go," he said, only for the sake of the woman. He knew Achilles would expect him to answer the call immediately, but the woman perhaps would not.

"Very well. I suggest you leave in the morning." Nodding, Connor started towards the door, but Achilles' words stopped him. "Cora will accompany you."

They both protested in unison, their voices filling the house as their displeasure threatened to turn into another argument.

"Enough," Achilles said, stomping his cane on the floor. "I thought you both had realized you each have something the other needs. If you two desire each others' help, you will set aside your foolish grievances and work together."

"I am beginning to wonder if it is worth it," the Assassin mumbled under his breath. Though he had meant to say it to himself, the girl still heard him, and her eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

Achilles groaned, muttering to himself. He knew a lost cause when he saw one... Besides, he had dealt with the two long enough to learn that it was best to let them get their frustrations out. Trying to reason with either of them would do no good.

"Forget it."

"You know, I have become extremely tired of your pride. Not to mention the fact that you seem to have the emotional range of a stone wall."

The Assassin gave a forced laugh, shaking his head at her words. "You are one to talk of pride! For someone who seems to hate it so much, you are one of the most prideful people I have ever met."

He left the room without looking at her, leaving her to mutter unheard insults into the emptiness of the air.

Cora took ages to get dressed. She had gone to pick up her clothes from Ellen and was pleasantly surprised. They were feminine but still practical, keeping her skills in mind. The skirt was not full, allowing for easy movement while not drawing too much attention like a woman in pants would. She had also included leggings, which Cora was more than thankful for. She never had enjoyed the feel of a dress, and both riding and fighting was made much easier when you didn't have full skirts to worry about. She had reservations about the waist cincher, but once she had put it on she found it more comfortable than she had thought, as long as she didn't fasten it too tightly. The belt had a place for her sword and a pistol, as well as her knives.

The Assassin had assured her that as long as she played coy and tried to blend in, no one would recognize her on the busy streets of Boston. Still, though, with so many weapons tied to her along with the unusual clothes, she felt as though she would stick out like a black sheep among the herd.

Lastly was a jacket, cropped short, that gave her an odd sense of security. Even so, she wished she had a hat or something, so it was easier to conceal her face. The city was riddled with Templars, and she knew with one glance into the wrong face, it could all be over for her.

Sighing, she plaited her hair messily and pulled on her boots, trying not to think about the prolonged period of time she would have to spend with the Assassin...

It would be worth it, though. As soon as she had received more information about where they would be, she had decided to look for her sketch book – the house she had lost it in was not far from the tavern where they would be meeting the Assassin's contacts. Of course, she hadn't spoken a word of her plan to the Assassin. Doubtlessly, he would think her desire for the book unimportant, and the decision to retrieve it foolish... But he didn't understand what it was like to have all of your memories contained within a set of binded pages...

"Are you coming?" His voice was deep and impatient as he rounded the corner, his eyes dark and expressionless. He braced himself, waiting for her to produce some brazen comment with her sharp tongue.

Instead, she nodded wordlessly, walking out of the room in an oddly somber manner. Conner furrowed his brow, half with concern and half with the hope that she would keep this quiet mood for the duration of their trip.

They prepared their horses silently, and Connor stole glances at her. She was so strange sometimes... One moment she was icy, cold and calculated, arrogant and impatient... The next she was lighthearted, teasing and laughing. And then, quicker than the wings of a hummingbird could disturb the air, she would get that look on her face... The look she had now, of an immense emptiness, a hollow sorrow that consumed her mind, quieted her tongue, gripped her heart... She didn't have to say anything for Connor to know that look. It wasn't just that he had begun to learn her moods, but it was the fact that he, too, knew that feeling all too well.

The ride felt much longer than it was, the hours dragging on like the last days of snowfall before spring finally broke. They decided to rest earlier than they had planned, each taking to their assigned task without and words spoken between them. After securing their horses, she had set out into the trees to find kindling and wood for the fire. He had offered to do it, had offered to let her rest... It was obvious to him that she hadn't slept well at all recently, the darkness under her eyes betraying her when she told him she was fine. But she had been so fidgety and anxious, it was no wonder she had insisted she do something.

As she had walked away, he had watched her go for a few moments longer than he should have, trying to make sense of the odd feeling somewhere deep within him, pulling him to go after her. Connor did not understand his feelings towards this woman... She was stubborn and proud and quick to argue, held grudges against even his well intentioned actions, and sometimes he doubted there was even an ounce of compassion within her. Yet still, he felt an odd draw to her... It wasn't desire or affection, absolutely not. Perhaps it was just the sensing of a kindred spirit, one that had been disappointed and abandoned and hurt and betrayed, even sometimes perhaps by herself. He knew that feeling well. So often lately he had found himself lost in bouts of dwelling on somber things, and the manner in which it consumed him sometimes worried him. Ever since Kanen'tó:kon's death, he had found himself more confused and emotion-ridden than ever. Though he fought in this war for freedom, another war raged within him – one where he had to decide between his ambitions and those he cared about. He could never find the balance between them. Always, he had sacrificed one for the other.

Shaking his head, he made his way in the opposite direction, drawing his bow as he began to scan the forest for signs of game nearby. Hunting and training were always a way for him to get his mind off of things – the focus and attention it required always quieted any unwanted thoughts.

His hunting trip didn't take long, and soon he returned to their makeshift camp with a rabbit in hand. He found Cora already asleep, hand draped across her face as she lay in front of the modest fire she had built. Sighing, he added more wood to the fire and began to prepare the rabbit, debating whether he should wake her to make her eat. She would need her strength, if this simple tasked turned into something much more dangerous. It always did...

A/N: So here we are! This chapter still has a lot more to it, but it was already so long so I just decided to split it in half. I really wanted to get something out to y'all since it's been so long! Now that the semester has started, there's a lot less time so I haven't edited this at all... I just wanted to get something out! I guess I'm just a loser this time, because I also didn't have time to pick out a quote... I hope everyone still enjoys this chapter and it isn't too bad!

Assassin27 - I hope you weren't disappointed... :)

AustinMahonesGirlfriend13 - Well, if you insist... ;)

Feel free to drop a review!