Britta sighed, when he was still as steady on his feet as when he first was. She had eaten the lunch she had ordered, and was getting bored. Micah noticed, and looked smug, dropping her back to the alley way later, just past midday. If she was honest her morning wasn't completely torturous, which was just as well considering she got nothing for her pains.

He only gave one sign the drinks had taken effect; as she was about to leave, she felt his warm breath graze her ear and a lock of black hair touch her face.

"You look really good in that dress you know." He whispered.

Defiantly intoxicated.

She turned to look, her green eyes wide as she met his. She realized that at some point she'd stopped seeing them as the Strange Man's eyes and as Micah's instead. They still made her nervous and perhaps a little scared, but the feeling was different and made her a smidge dizzy.

She felt herself sigh out a breath she didn't know she had been holding as he walked away. Running back to the forest she called Thunder and jumped straight back on. Ignoring the way the dress bunched under her as she sat in the straight posture she had been taught she rode the few hours back to the camp. She felt his nearness all the there. Dress still on she practiced throwing her daggers, hearing them thud onto the tree, trying to take her mind off Micah.

She moved quickly, even in the dress, and was pleased when all found the mark. She yanked them out and went to throw them again. She was onto her third round when she heard the foot steps behind her. She was quick to pull them out, thinking of self-defense, not the safety of her secret. She didn't wear the shroud, but she was near a secret location throwing daggers. They would know something was amiss. She spun around to see the Fox standing behind her. Brown eyes surveying her calmly.

"Fancy that, Bren." He said, taking in her stance.

Britta shrunk back. "I-" She stammered.

The Fox held up his hand. "I knew there was something. Out of curiosity, what is your real name?"

"Bri." Said Britta. She didn't want him connecting any more dots than he already had.

"See you around, Bri."

She was caught, she knew it. She felt the impending doom every step he took, walking back to the central camp. She could feel the crunch of the leaves and already hear the yelling. She remembered quickly that Micah was out. She had enough time to pack.

Yet stubbornly she pulled her training clothes back on and stabled Thunder, heading back to the cabin. She didn't see Ed there, he had come far less often recently. That improved her mood a small amount. She sat on the bed, staring out the window until sleep came to her. She hadn't packed, but the vision of the bag under her bed was burned into her mind. She should get going before they chased her and Diana.

Instead she sank into sleep.

She waited, that morning to be called into the central cabin or worse, shamed in front of everyone during training. But the Fox acted as normal, his usual calm manner. By midwinter, still he had done nothing, and Britta almost felt free to accept he never was. Almost. She hadn't let her guard down since.

It snowed for the first time that year on midwinter day. Excitement sparked through the camp. Britta went outside and watched the small white flakes begin to land on the frost hard ground. By the time she had finished her run there was a layer of it on and it was cold. She looked at the ice she would have to break through on the edge of the stream and her already shivering body. She cursed her natural tendency for cleanness and got in quickly, not even scrubbing herself before she was out. She dried herself off with the winter cloak and rebound her chest, the shirt back around her waist. Pulling on the rest of her training clothes she made her way quickly back to camp.

Training was cancelled, and there was little else to do except float around cabins. She spent a good amount of time with Clyde, Neal and Thom in their cabin. Diana came too, and Ed pointedly left when she entered. Britta had long since given up trying to figure out what was going on. If she was honest she didn't know why it annoyed her so much. She remained with the assumption that she was annoyed with Diana for keeping her in the dark. Now at least, when he left she had a chance to begin talking to her again; that was what she assumed the spark of happiness was all about.

The snow fell thick and heavy for three days. Britta was already sick of having to stay inside. As deep as the snow was, the moment it stopped she made her way outside. Crunching through the snow she found her way to a tree at the edge if the forest. The snow still fell lightly and a few flakes caught in her tied back hair. She was considering cutting her hair because it was beginning to get far too long. Soon it would look far too feminine and she was being much more cautious now.

She picked the tree as her target and stood back. The air was still crowded by snowflakes and it was difficult for her to see. Turning where she was better under shelter she threw, one of her daggers missing the trunk and blaming it on poor visibility. She walked to retrieve it under the trees. There, snow only dappled the ground lightly, her thin shoes barely making a noise. She glanced quickly around for it, eyes falling on a clump of ferns. She dropped to the ground and rifled her hand through them. Instead of touching hard wood and metal her hand touched something else.

Warm fur reached her fingers barely a moment before sharp teeth. Quickly, Britta jerked her hand back out, parting the ferns and leaning in closer. Bright green eyes met hers and a small hiss reached her ears. Britta delicately reached in and, avoiding the claws she picked it up. She didn't know where the kitten had come from, but it was cold and she was quick to pull it into her chest.

"Where did you come from?" She asked softly. Then, remembering how she talked to Thunder, reached out with The Voice.

Are you ok little one? She asked through her mind.

The kitten uttered a small meow, which Britta felt in her own chest. Cradling it she left her dagger and walked back to the cabin. Once she was in the warm and out of the wind she pulled off her bed sheets and made a small, warm corner of the room. Placing the kitten inside she went back outside and into the kitchen. Knowing most herbs would be dead due to the cold weather she found some of the stronger ones from the kitchen, planning to use them to get rid of the fleas. She grabbed some creamy milk and snuck out the back door, knowing they wouldn't appreciate her taking extra food and using it for a cat.

She treated the kitten's fleas and rubbed her fur down, using warm water to get out any clumps and drying it thoroughly. She sat back on her heals to give the kitten a look over. Pet's had not been allowed at the orphanage, and probably weren't here either, Britta was tempted not to take the risk and put the kitten back outside. Looking at the reddish brown tabby pelt she had cleaned so well, and the large kitten eyes she knew she would never be able to.

"I'll take you to town the next time we can go in and give you to someone there." She decided halfheartedly.

Pushing the bowl of milk over she watched the kitten sniffing around it, struggling to move its stubby legs over. The tiny thing couldn't be more than a few weeks old. Knowing that, Britta dipped her fingers into the milk and let the kitten suckle, going until it lay down and slept. He (Britta checked though he yowled at the indignity) had no objection when Britta brought it up to her bed and sat, stroking it, until both of them fell asleep. The cold never ceased to make Britta tired.

As it happened, the snow stayed on the ground for long enough so that training resumed, despite the biting cold. She dropped her morning training sessions because it was too dark in the mornings to see properly, but still woke up at her normal time. She used this to play with the kitten, who she had named Faithful because of his attempts to follow Britta everywhere. At first, Britta discouraged it, but undeniably enjoyed the weight of the kitten on her shoulders.

Eventually she let him tag along. Walking into training with a cat on her shoulder was one way, Britta decided, to attract attention. She was not much a figure when shrouded by The Voice, but having a cat nestled under her hair was one way to restore that. The Fox looked her up and down again, carefully. The look reminded Britta of the one he had given her when he had found her secret. She shivered, and not accountably because of the cold.

"Pets, are strictly not allowed here, Bren." He said, calmly.

"I tried to make him stay behind," She explained, "Have a try if you want, he'll just come follow me."

The Fox made to reach for him, but Faithful was quick to hiss and extend his claws. The Fox shrugged and retracted his hands.

"Watch out for him then." He said quickly, "We can't make exceptions, and if he causes trouble I'll have to report him."

Through the whirling speed of the training session Faithful stayed on Brittas shoulder, somehow clinging on, though she barely felt his claws dig in. After that first day Faithful became a regular edition to the training session, sitting out when need be.

Britta could feel the cats mind developing, and now and a few more weeks old she could talk to it. She found him a source of comfort from her guilt at ignoring Diana.

Sister not bad. He would say.

Then am I?

Things change, events out of control. Controlling emotions is like harnessing Thunder. Not going to happen.

When did you get so wise?

Somewhere, Britta could tell he wasn't all he seemed, but she had since given up her idea of selling him to the marketplace and had every intent on keeping him now he was so friendly. As it warmed she went back to her morning practices once again, throwing daggers, practicing pattern dances, and carefully watching Diana climb, pride sparking in her chest. They weren't as cut off at it might seem. She could feel her sister's emotions just as clearly as ever and made no effort to block her own.

The rising sun got Britta out of bed each morning. She took Faithful with her as well. As usual, tucking the daggers into her belt she headed out to the forest. She managed the climb with ease, though she had since moved on to a harder part of the cliff face. There was a fluid grace to the way she ran, arms and legs pumping, barely out of breath by the time she reached the clearing. She threw the daggers calmly, until she heard footsteps behind her.

She missed her shot and turned to see who it was. Her heart leapt slightly when she saw Ed but she kept her voice calm.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him looking away.

"Why shouldn't I be here?" He retorted.

Britta kept her eyes scanning for where the missing knife hit. She went to retrieve it, going to throw it again. She missed when she felt him standing directly behind her.

"I haven't seen you miss in a while." He pointed out, his new way of talking annoying her. "Do I make you nervous?" He added quietly.

She denied it quickly, and then reconsidered, when she felt his hand brush the side of her neck. She cursed.

"Something to do with having a stranger watch me." She said heatedly.

Hurt flashed in his eyes, "I was never a stranger." He said, avoiding her eyes. Satisfaction burned when she saw the emotion, maybe he wasn't terrorizing her, not completely.

She saw, out of the corner of her eyes, Faithful slink away into the bushes.

"No," She agreed, "You weren't, but I wish you were." She said.

"What happened between me and her-"

"Diana." Britta corrected. "I don't hate her, hate is a strong word, but I'm beginning to think I could apply it to you. I told you I don't care, and I meant it."

"Me and her, we barely even talk anymore."

"Why? Not enough for you? Take her then leave her. You shouldn't act that way."

"Will you just let me talk?" He said, voice rising. Britta paused, gritting her teeth, but maybe it was finally time for it to come to an end.

"Fine." She spat out, but maybe even now, the dislike was a pretense.

"We weren't thinking, we were drunk, what do you expect? And she liked me for much longer you know. Britta, you shouldn't hold it against us."

Britta rolled her eyes. "Didn't we go over this? There is no one to blame but you."

"Look, it's over now. As I said, we don't talk. There's nothing between us" The news cheered Britta up more than she would admit.

"You can't just leave her, there's no reason to." She said, firmly.

"You can't force how you feel either." He said, leaning in.

"Then don't get involved, if there's nothing wrong with her then there's something wrong with you!" She hissed.

"Britta." He interrupted her, she didn't listen.

"She's the better one out of the two of us any way, she has it sorted, what could you possibly find wrong with her?"

"BRITTA." He interrupted again. She fell silent.

"It's nothing to do with that. I stopped with her because I like you instead." A strange emotion rushed through her, yet she didn't have time to think before he took that last step between them.

His lips crushed to her own, in a fever unknown to her before. He wound his hands through her hair, she wanted to pull herself closer, but it was all wrong. She felt his movement against her, pushing closer before he pulled away. There was a note of apology in his eyes. Britta stared for a moment, trying to get herself under control.

"You, Edmond, are someone I will never work out." She said, and turned on heal, walking straight back to camp.

***

Eehe

Heh

Uhm....