Just to check

Levihan 2

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Zoë opened her eyes hesitantly, taking in her surroundings. She was in a meadow, Chance was tied to a tree nearby, and still sleeping by the look of it. She had been riding for nearly two weeks now, stopping at various villages for rest and supplies. Now, according to her map, she was on the outskirts of her small country, and nearing the border into the next. From what her map showed, she had ridden from her home in Macedonia to the Servian countries. Not that it took very long, her country was rather small after all.

With a long, satisfying stretch, she stood and pulled her jacket on. Having grown used to sleeping in her clothes, she only took her jacket off at night, as it was late summer, and too hot to wear it to bed. She pat Chance on the shoulder and gently woke him, stroking his mane and cooing quietly. The steed nickered and nudged her, with a laugh, she nudged him back. "I know you're tired, boy, but we still have a long ways to go." she said, giving him an apple.

The horse snorted and accepted his treat, munching away while Zoë made her own breakfast. While she hadn't been a part of this life long, she felt as if it were her true calling. Every day she spent simply riding to some unknown horizon was better than the last. Riding was also getting easier, as her body was slowly becoming used to its function during the act.

  She didn't usually have much to eat if she hadn't stayed at an inn the night before. As such, her breakfast only consisted of an apple and a couple rolls of bread. She had no time for cooking meat, so she hadn't hunted any animals either.

  She pulled apart her bread, popping the torn pieces into her mouth and leaning against the tree she slept under with a contended sigh. "Few more days of travel, Chance." she said, "Then we'll be out of the country." she smiled softly, she had taken to talking to Chance whenever she was thinking. He was her only friend, after all, and he listened too. At least it seemed like he did, anyway.

  "Alright, come on boy." she stood and brushed the crumbs from her shirt. She repacked her bedroll and hoisted her sack back onto its customary place slung over her shoulder before she swung herself up into the saddle.

  She got started early, just after sunrise, and continued to walk east down the road, as she usually did. It was a gorgeous day, the sun highlighted the lingering dew from the previous night's fog. And the sky was painted in a lovely, fading, purple hue that extended towards the western horizon. Zoë could feel that this was going to be a good day, and, according to her map, she should come upon the next village by sunset.

As far as she could tell, the roads she traveled upon were mostly unused, which - in a manner of speaking - was good. A less popular road made for a lesser chance of burglary, as thieves would likely only target a road that was sure to have travelers. Yet Zoë was still cautious, and better cautionary than dead, is what she reasoned.

The sun climbed swiftly in the sky, soon beaming down unforgivingly on her and her steed. Zoë pondered over the fact that summer may be ending in less than a couple months. If that was so, she hoped to find a place to settle in Servia before winter. Traveling wasn't an option during the winter months. And, if she was far enough away, Zoë hoped such a long hiatus from her run wouldn't enable her father to catch up to her. If he was even looking. During the first few days of her ride, she doubted that he would, but realizing that she had cost him a fortune by running sent waves of fear coursing down her spine.

  She still wasn't sure whether or not she got away cleanly. She could be being tracked, or not, there was really no way to know. She was no expert, but she did her best not to leave any traces of her intentions or the direction in which she headed. There was no telling whether or not her skill was sufficient.

  Zoë continued her train of thought, and were she more aware of her surroundings, the following may not have happened. Chance suddenly jolted backwards and reared, whinnying loudly and nearly making her slip from her perch on his back. She managed to sight the source of his distress. A long, green, harmless grass snake had been slithering along the path.

  Her brief view of the snake was all she was afforded before the gelding broke into a frantic gallop. And the sudden thrust of his neck pulled the reins from her hands. "Chance!" she shrieked in terror, clutching at his neck with all her might. She buried her face in his mane and cried out every time she nearly lost her grip.

  The horse didn't slow, and when the whisking sound of trees began to fill her ears she realized he had broken from the path. "No wait!" she yelled, reaching out to grab the reins as they flew towards her. She leant back to tug on his reins as much as she could. The horse was stubborn, however, and refused to slow.

  Zoë gave a loud growl of irritation and tugged on the reins harder. The next thing she knew, her head exploded in pain, and her back hit the ground seconds later. A sharp snap registered in her brain, but at the moment she was too discombobulated to decipher what it was.

  Chance's hoofbeats sounded in her ears for a time, but slowly faded as the seconds went by. She stared up at the canopy of trees, uncertain of what she should do. She had never anticipated she might lose Chance, let alone be tossed against a tree in the middle of the forest. Her body ached terribly, especially in her head and arm, and she grimaced as she attempted to move.

  'I need to get up.' she told herself, grunting as she shifted and tensed her muscles. "Aghh!!" she cried out as she put pressure on her left arm. She hissed and gasped, barely breathing as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, willing the pain to ease even just a little. It had to be broken, somewhere next to the wrist, from what she could gather. She'd never broken anything before, and as she shakily clutched the wounded limb to her chest, she realized through the pain that she would need a doctor.

  The arm throbbed ten times more violently than her head now that she had touched and moved it so much. The pain had her eyes moist and her throat tightening. She gasped and sniffled as she gently rocked herself back and forth, holding the limb as still as she possibly could. It helped just a bit, and the pain very gradually faded until it was at a more tolerable level. Now was the time to move, she decided.

  She struggled to stand with both arms occupied, but she managed. At this point, Zoë was simply glad she had worn the straps of her bag around her shoulders and not tied it to the saddle like the saddlebags. Tracking down Chance would take hours, and she had at least a couple bread rolls in her bag, so she wouldn't starve. But she had no sleeping bag, and her only weapons were the tiny knives, not even worthy of being called daggers. Her sword was in Chance's saddle sheath.

  "Keep it together, Zoë. Keep it together..." she told herself, looking around, then another horrid thought struck her. "Oh God, which way were we running?" she spun around in circles, trying to pinpoint something familiar. The only landmark was the indent of her landing, and she wasn't certain if she fell from the left or right side of Chance's back, or even straight off over his rump....

  The leaves were also scattered everywhere, so she couldn't find any hoofprints to guide herself.

  She looked up to determine the sun's position in the sky, a useful habit she had picked up over the past week. They had been riding on a westward path, so she tried to determine the direction Chance had initially run from the path. The forest was to the north of the path, so she figured that he had gone north. "He must be to this way..." she decided, turning in what (she hoped) was the correct direction.

  Each step was painful, as there was a subtle burn in the skin just below the back of her knee. She supposed she had pulled a muscle in her right calf during the fall, and her broken arm jarred with each step, sending searing pain pulsing to her already dizzy brain. Zoë hissed through her teeth, and despite having walked a mere few meters she stopped to take a breath.

  At this rate, it would be midnight before she found Chance. But she couldn't give up, despite her pain, it wasn't worth getting lost in the woods if she stopped. So she took another step, and forced herself to take another. She wasn't giving up, one way or another, she'd find some escape from this mess.

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  Zoë panted heavily, dust, leaves, and various forest debris were entangled in her hair, and dry tear streaks had crusted on her face. She hadn't cried out of despair or anything of the like, but rather from the renewed throbbing in her arm. Over time, the dull pain had increased with each step she took, until the ache was mind-numbing. By that point she didn't care anymore, and moved without a second thought to her injuries.

  She checked the sun, noting that it was nearly twilight, and she needed to make a camp before that happened. Or at least as much of a camp as she could muster. Zoë came to a stop and shrugged off her bag, gasping as it caught on her useless arm and tugged painfully. Without her sleeping bag, she had no choice but to use the forest floor. She flimsily placed her hood down and digging into her bag to pull out the clothing inside. She laid it out as a makeshift cushion and placed her bag on the end of the piled clothing as a pillow.

  She wouldn't be able to build a fire, not without both hands, so she resolved to hope that the night wouldn't get chilly...

  Zoë groaned as she lay down, carefully positioning her broken arm on the ground. Sleep came surprisingly quickly, darkness creeping into her vision and seemingly devouring her into a nightmarish slumber.

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  Zoë gasped and sat up, or at least attempted to. Feeling far too weak, she flopped back down before she could even begin to move. 'Where am I?' she asked herself, clearly remembering having fallen asleep under a gnarly tree. Now, she was staring at the roof of a tent, laying on a cushy sleeping bag, arm in a wooden splint and linen sling, along with a cool cloth draped over her forehead.

  She exhaled shakily and looked around, blinking her eyes to adjust to the light of a dim lantern. It was a moderate tent, big enough for someone to stand, and wide enough for three sleeping bags. But besides herself, another sleeping bag, and her makeshift satchel, (which sat in a corner) there was not much to see. That is until the tent flap opened and a young woman walked inside. She seemed to be just a couple years older than Zoë, her dark, luscious red hair was pulled into a lovely braid that cascaded down her shoulder. Her eyes were a bright, jade-green, and she wore a form-fitting, brown leather outfit.

  The woman jumped when she saw Zoë was awake, but she quickly regained her composure, breaking into a warm, comforting smile as she approached, "Thank goodness! We were wondering if you'd ever wake up." she exclaimed, kneeling beside the injured girl's head. She changed the cool cloth for a new one, and readjusted Zoë's arm.

  "Who..." Zoë began, but promptly coughed when she attempted to speak. Her was voice rather hoarse, as her was throat dry and crackly. She cleared it a good few times before she could even begin to try again, but the young woman waited patiently with a kind smile. "Who are you?" she attempted again, the words burning against her throat.

  "My name is Isabel. My brother and my husband found your horse a few days back. And after they did a little searchin', they found you too! You had a raging fever, and let me just say, we thought you might die during the night." the woman explained, moving to examine her sprained calf.

  Zoë gulped, her first little adventure - if one could call it that - also nearly killed her. She was honestly starting to doubt her survival capabilities. If one snake almost killed her just by slithering across her path, how was she going to handle anything bigger than that?

  Isabel gently probed her sore, swollen leg muscles with undoubtedly experienced hands. It hurt, though only just, and Zoë sighed as she wrapped a surprisingly cold compress around the area. "Where am I?" she asked in a rasp, and she gratefully accepted the water that she was offered a second later. Isabel propped her head up with her hand and gave her tiny sips of the soothing liquid.

  "Oh, maybe a day's ride away from where we found you. We've been on the move since then, but it's been slow goings with the unexpected, unconscious, extra person." Isabel explained. "You still have a fever, so try and go back to sleep. No need to get up yet."

  Zoë nodded and shifted to get more comfortable, her eyes drifting shut while Isabel crushed some type of herb beneath two rocks. The woman talked some more, but Zoë barely acknowledged that she was speaking. She also heard conversation outside, and assumed it was Isabel's brother and husband, as she had said. She heard the tent flap open and a man's voice reverberated through the tent. Isabel spoke back in a whisper, having realized Zoë was already falling back asleep.

  "No, I didn't catch her name..." she vaguely heard before dreams claimed her again.

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  When next Zoë awoke, flashes of her memory during her fever dreams came back to her. She briefly recalled Isabel's words, remembering that, apparently, including the woman she had met, there were a three people watching over her. Why they would bother, she didn't know, but she assumed it was because they were kind. She had seen the two men Isabel mentioned, albeit in a hazy fog when she attempted to remember their faces.

  There was a taller blonde and a slightly shorter, dark-haired man. That much she was able to make out during her illness. Zoë sat up with a groan and used her right arm to rub at her eyes. She started when she realized her clothing was missing, and she was clad in only a long, loose, man's shirt. The front apparently laced, and the "V" of the shirt rested far too low on her chest to properly preserve her modesty. At the thought of someone undressing and redressing her, she flushed. With only one woman in the camp, she sincerely hoped Isabel could have handled it alone.

  She shifted her left arm, finding that it was still wrapped tight and snug within soft linen. And the two thin wooden slabs that served as a splint were covered in the linen as well to prevent chafing against her delicate skin. The arm was tied to her chest with a sling, and had not been pulled through the sleeve of the loose shirt. Zoë grunted as she got to her knees, tossing the blanket back and standing on her weak and shaky legs.

  She found her calf was no longer sprained, or at least well on its way to the mend. And she could walk without the nerve-wrenching pinch that she remembered from her last use of it. It was still tender, however, and she moved it gingerly to keep it from a relapse.

  Zoë tugged the shirt down subconsciously with her good hand, despite the fact that the hem of the fine, woolen cloth came well down her thigh. She supposed her clothing needed to be burned if she had been running a fever as Isabel told her. It was common knowledge that - to prevent infection -clothing was customarily used until the sickness had passed, and then burned.

  She inspected her bag in the corner, only to remember how she used her extra clothing on her bed in the forest. If they were in a hurry, they wouldn't have taken the time to pack it. It must have gotten left behind.

  Obviously, Isabel hadn't considered dressing her with her own clothing, or they simply decided it'd be better to shop for clothes. She wasn't sure who had lent her the shirt, but she was certain it wasn't Isabel, the woman was far too petite. Her cheeks turned hot again at the thought of wearing a man's shirt, and she wondered whom it belonged to out of the two men in the camp. One of which she knew was married, she wasn't certain of the other, Isabel's brother, was he?

  Zoë stumbled about in search of pants, as her caretakers hadn't supplied her with even a simple pair of trousers. And she didn't care to walk about the camp in her state of undress. She froze in place when the tent flap moved and someone stepped inside. Their eyes met and both seemed too startled to move, it was the shorter man, the one with dark hair. If Zoë wasn't so shocked, she might have snickered at the fact that he was obviously a good three or four inches shorter than her, maybe even more.

  Her hand gripped the hem of her shirt tighter and tugged it down, her subconscious attempt to hide her - no doubt - partially visible womanhood beneath the thin shirt. Her cheeks burned with unbridled embarrassment. The man, however, seemed to regain his composure, (all too quickly for her liking) and stood up straighter.

  He was an interestingly handsome man, Zoë thought, despite her situation. His features, albeit emotionless, were striking, coupled with piercing, dark grey eyes that seemed to see right through her. And she didn't miss the fact that those eyes had given an appreciative sweep of her hardly-concealed form. Something she found to be surprisingly flattering.

  She could see that despite his short stature, he was very well built, albeit a little thin. And the sword at his belt told her he was no novice in the art of combat. That, coupled with a scar or two on his somewhat visible chest. Visible, as he wore a rather similar shirt to the one she was clad in. But the shirt he wore was smaller than hers, and now she honestly hoped he was Isabel's husband, as wearing the shirt of someone's husband seemed so scandalous to her flustered brain.  However, the next few seconds dashed those hopes away with ease.

  "Isabel! The girl is awake!" he called in a familiar, deep - and if she were honest with herself - swoon-worthy voice. Wait, why was his voice familiar? She was certain she'd heard it before...

  Isabel burst into the tent in a tizzy, "Thanks, Levi-bro! You can go now." she turned the disgruntled man around and shoved him out, eliciting a scoff and a sound of protest from him.

  'Bro? So that was her brother?' Zoë bit her lip and felt her blush spread to her ears, now realizing that was the first time a man had ever seen her in anything less modest than riding trousers.

  Isabel chuckled after she closed the tent flap and spun to face Zoë. "Oh! Right, sorry about your clothes. You were sick so I had to burn them, as you probably know. And my only spare set of clothes is dirty so I just washed them earlier today. They'll be dry soon, in maybe ten minutes." she explained.

  "Oh, I see." Zoë sighed in relief, at least she would soon have clothing. "And this is...?" she fingered the shirt.

  "Oh, my husband: Farlan, had to lend you a shirt, I'm afraid you are just a little too tall for Levi's shirts to cover you, at least half-modestly. Don't tell him I said that, he has a short-man complex and he just loses it when his height is mentioned." Isabel had leaned in to whisper and pulled back with a loud, obnoxious chortle.

  Zoë nodded, a slight smile tugging at her lips, it would have been more embarrassing to wear a shorter shirt, she gathered. And since Isabel didn't seem to mind that it was her husband's, she found her embarrassment over the matter fading. "He's also a clean freak, so I doubt I would've been able to convince him to lend you one anyways." Isabel chuckled. "So, what's your name, hun?" she asked, kneeling to straighten out the sleeping bag Zoë had been in.

  Zoë started to speak, but found her name caught just behind her teeth, 'I can't tell them!' she realized, it would expose her to use her real name. She had to be quick, and think of something on the spot, something no one from home would recognize. And - thank her lucky stars - a name came to her, a name she had used for an old ragdoll when she was seven. "Hanji, my name is Hanji."

  Isabel paused, "Mmm, that's a pretty name." she stood with a smile, "No last name?"

  Zoë, now Hanji, shook her head, "If I had one, I'm certain I'd have told you." she chuckled nervously.

  Isabel frowned, "Orphan?" she asked, her face twisted in both sadness and sympathy.

  Hanji thought of her mother and let her smile curve into a frown of her own. Her gaze shifted down and she nodded. Despite the fact that her father was alive, he never truly felt like a father to her. And she felt no remorse in claiming that she was without parents, in fact, it made her feel lighter.

  "Ahh, we're the same. Of course, it's not rare in the world we live in." Isabel hummed thoughtfully, "Welcome to our little squad, Hanji." she extended a hand.

  "Please to be here." Hanji smiled, hesitantly taking the older woman's hand and shaking it warmly.

•

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  The campfire was crackling loudly in the early evening air, coupled with the soothing chirps of crickets and birds as the majority of creatures fell asleep. From Hanji's perspective, the trio weren't very talkative people. Well, at least Levi and Farlan weren't. Isabel was quite the chatterbox, and now (according to one offhand comment from Farlan), since she had another woman in the camp, she seemed to be quite ecstatic. Isabel had properly introduced her to Farlan after her clothing was dry. He was taller than both Isabel and Levi, but he was practically equal to her in height. And he had scruffy blonde hair, matched with surprisingly warm, blue eyes.

  "So tell me, Hanji-" Farlan began, stirring up the logs in the fire, "-where are you from?"

  Hanji bit her lip, "I don't really know, but I was raised in the southern Macedonia countries." she replied. Well, that wasn't entirely a lie, she did grow up there after all. But it was a lie to say she didn't know her origins. She tried to suppress any guilt at lying, these were obviously good people, and she didn't want to have to lie. However, her getaway depended upon it, she couldn't have anyone finding out her origins and taking her back home.

  She glanced at Levi, who had been studying her since she left the tent. How could he be so nonchalant like that?! He had seen her nearly naked! And that dull, emotionless expression was all he had to show for it? 'Honestly, it's as if he's a statue.' she grumbled inwardly. On the opposite end of the spectrum: outwardly, she was horribly embarrassed, and she could feel her ears burning each time she caught his eyes.

  He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was observing her. And she wondered why he didn't look at something else? Perhaps it was because he could see through her lies? That was highly probable. After all, she had never been good at lying, and those piercing eyes seemed to mask a supreme intelligence. His eyes narrowed just slightly every time she talked, and after the thought occurred to her, she gulped when she realized it might be true. Levi could probably see right through her flimsy mask.

  "Ah, that's interesting, I've never been to the southern countries, in Macedonia at least." Farlan smiled at the campfire. Hanji found herself able to return the smile easily. She had decided when she met him that she liked Farlan. He seemed very warm and kindly, along with that, he and Isabel made a handsome couple. She could see why the two were together. They were very bright and sunny in personality, such a strange contradiction to Isabel's impressionably cold, distant brother.

  She couldn't deny that Levi and Isabel were siblings though, despite her red hair and brighter eyes, Isabel's face resembled her brother's, albeit slightly more plump and feminine. They were also both short in stature, and Hanji smiled as she subtly observed the similarities. "Levi! Try a roll, I made them myself." Isabel had taken a bite out of the hot bread she pulled from the pan atop the fire, and now offered it to her brother.

  Levi turned his head away, but the smallest fraction of a smile appeared on his face as he ruffled Isabel's hair. "Oi!" she grumbled, reaching up to fix her wayward locks.

  "I'm not going to eat it with your germs on it." he said, holding his hand out for a new roll.

  Isabel gave a mischievous grin, reaching to grab a fresh roll. Hanji had to stifle a shocked giggle when the redhead brought the roll to her mouth and subtly licked it. Isabel winked at the girl, smiling innocently as she handed the bread to her brother. "Here you go!" Hanji covered her mouth with her good hand to hide her smile when Levi ate the roll, and Isabel smirked triumphantly, turning to wiggle her brows at her.

  Then the redhead seemed to ponder something and spoke, "Say, Hanji. With that broken arm I doubt you'll get very far in your travels on your own. Why don't you journey with us for a while? Just until your arm heals?" Isabel suggested.

  Hanji opened her mouth to respond, but she found she was a little unsure of what to say. Should she? She didn't even know who these people were. She also wasn't certain if Levi liked that idea, although he didn't object, his eyes narrowed just slightly, and his piercing gaze intensified on the hesitant girl. She just didn't know if she should agree.

  But then again, Isabel was right, traveling alone with a broken arm was not a good idea. She'd likely be committing suicide by trying to travel alone. "I suppose I could. If it's no bother. I do have money, so I can buy my own food for a while." Hanji said with a deep breath and a hesitant smile.

  Isabel's eyes twinkled in triumph and she beamed, "Wonderful! I'm so very glad. It's nice to finally have a girl to talk to, I haven't been in female company for months." the redhead came to sit beside Hanji, scooping bowls of stew out as she spoke. "And don't worry about food, I make too much anyways." she assured.

  Hanji nodded, accepting the bowl that was pushed into her hands. She also noticed that Farlan and Levi had secluded themselves a few feet from the campfire and began to speak quietly. She couldn't focus on them long, however, as Isabel was soon trying to get her attention. "So, I assume you don't have any family. I can't fathom not having at least a little family." the woman began.

  "It's lonely." Hanji nodded, and that wasn't a lie. Her home was miserable and secluded after her mother died. And in her repeated opinion, her father was never like family. He never behaved like a father, but rather like a distant relative. But she didn't want to think about her father now, though, so she changed the subject. "Where are you traveling to?" she asked in sudden curiosity, if she was going to be with them for the month or so it took to heal, she might as well know.

  Isabel smiled, "Home. It's been about three months since we left. It's in a smaller town to the west of the Servian country." she explained.

  "I was headed the same way." Hanji admitted.

  "Really? What a coincidence! Or maybe not, I never know whether to believe in fate or not." Isabel waved her hand around enthusiastically, and Hanji smiled, this woman was something else. Her personality was so carefree. "I can't wait to see our little sister again." she murmured.

  "You have another sibling?" Hanji asked in surprise.

  "Yes. We grew up in an orphanage. Our parents died when I was five, and Levi was seven. Our sister was only a year old." she explained.

  "Oh, I'm sorry about your parents." Hanji said in sympathy, placing a hand on Isabel's.

  "It's hard to remember much, but I know our mother was an Oriental, and our father was native to Servia. They met by chance when her clan was fleeing the Orient because of some war." Isabel tucked a hand under her chin, holding a bowl in the other. "Levi and Mikasa look a lot like mum. And I took after papa."

  "He had red hair?" Hanji asked.

  "No, it was my grandmum on his side. I remember he always said she had lots of pretty, red hair. But papa was blonde, like Farlan. It's his eyes I have." Isabel said with a nostalgic smile.

  Hanji looked over and observed Levi, studying his features. He did look somewhat Oriental. She had never met an Oriental in person, but she had seen many pictures in the books of her library. "How did they die?"

  Isabel frowned, "A raid." that was all she needed to say.

  Hanji bit her lip, "I'm sorry for asking. It must have been hard."

  "It was. But I wouldn't change anything. Well, except for our parents. I'd have them experience Mikasa's first step, my marriage, and how we've all grown up." Isabel said with a sigh, "People die, but some do before their time. I would change that." Hanji nodded. "But! I have accepted it as the past, and I can't do anything by dwelling on it. We have Mikasa to look after, and our lives to think about. There wasn't much time for grief." Isabel said loudly and straightened up with a deep breath.

  "I would love to meet Mikasa. How old is she?" Hanji asked.

  "She is about sixteen now. Couple years younger than you, eh?" Isabel turned to her with that question in her gaze.

  "Ahh, well my birthday is in a couple weeks, I'll be eighteen then." Hanji smiled.

  "Just as I thought. You're only two years younger than me." Isabel supplied.

  Hanji put that information together in her head, determining that would make Isabel twenty and Levi twenty-two. They were still so young weren't they? And Isabel was so open! She hadn't expected to learn so much about her so quickly. "You are surprisingly trusting to simply tell a stranger like me so much personal information. I don't know if I could have so much faith in someone I'd only just met to tell them so much about myself."

  Isabel chuckled, "Well, it's not as if you are a stranger to me. I've been doting on you for over a week now. I feel as if I know you well enough I suppose." she leaned in closer to hand Hanji a bowl of stew. "Plus I have been dying to speak to our little patient for so many days, I just got carried away. But I trust you are a good person. My intuition has never been wrong." Isabel winked.

  Hanji giggled and reached her hand up to take a sip of her stew (she had to sip it from the rim of the bowl, as she could only use one arm). The stew also happened to be surprisingly delicious. Compared to her own concoctions when she made camp. Come to think of camps, she looked around, observing the horses and tents. Curiosity welled, as she didn't see any boxes or a wagon or anything of the like. "What's your trade? I haven't noticed any wagons or anything. So what do you three do for a living?"

  "We're mercenaries." Isabel said through a mouthful of stew..

  Hanji stiffened, 'Mercenaries?!' her mind began to run all the horrible things she had heard about mercenaries through her head. They were people who sold their abilities, often to the more socially powerful who were to afraid to sully their hands. They were hired to fight battles, steal, kidnap, or even assassinate in some circumstances. Hanji didn't know what to say, in honesty. These three seemed so nice (although Levi didn't seem to be open with his emotions, he still seemed like he could be a nice person). She couldn't believe they had probably been involved in murder, and no-doubt stolen things.

  "Does it scare you?" Isabel asked, having observed the girl's response to her statement.

  Hanji jumped, she had drifted off into her thoughts and let her guard down. She was all the more uncertain about whether or not to trust these people now. "I...I...well, I can't lie. It's a frightening job." she murmured.

  Isabel sighed, "It's not as if we wanted this life. Hell, when we were kids we were gonna grow up to be farmers. Fate turned the tables on us, so we adjusted our morales and even our dignity to survive." she looked down at her hands and furrowed her thin brows, red bangs hanging around her face as she spoke, "We sure as hell aren't saintly, and we've done awful things. But in our hearts, we know that we do what we do because we have to. We need to provide for our sister, we need to make sure she has a life devoid of the sins we were forced to commit. Therefore, I have no regrets. I am glad to be who I am, if it means I can make her life better, different even."

  Hanji listened with a pang in her heart, she jumped to conclusions and judged Isabel and her companions before she could explain. Granted, she supposed anyone would be suspicious of a mercenary, but these people were showing her a great kindness by taking her in. She should have given them the benefit of the doubt, and been grateful that they had heart, despite the way they made their living. "I...don't think I've ever respected anybody so suddenly like this before." she chuckled, and Isabel turned to her with a smile.

  "I wasn't trying to be inspirational, but I'm glad you can so easily see me that way. We do tend to avoid the more unjust jobs, but sometimes you have no other options." she explained.

  Hanji nodded, "Well, I can't judge you for your life choices. As you said, you do what you have to. I understand that." and that was no lie, she genuinely understood that some people were forced into lifestyles they didn't want to live.

  "If I had my way-" Isabel continued, "-I'd live in a cottage in the mountains with Farlan, maybe have some children." she chuckled at that, "Someday we will, when we earn enough to buy some land. Then we won't have to sell our skills, we could just live peacefully. That's what Farlan and me are working towards anyway. I don't know about Levi. Sometimes it seems he doesn't enjoy this way of life, and other times he seems indifferent." she shrugged.

  Hanji glanced over at Levi and Farlan, and found that the former was speaking in hushed tones with the latter. And he occasionally glanced her way too. She felt her heart rate increase and a cold shiver run down her spine. She still felt as though he suspected her, and she was certain that intuition was correct.

  Isabel changed the subject of conversation shortly, but Hanji was preoccupied with her thoughts, and the fact that those piercing eyes kept looking her way. He made her nervous, she concluded, and she wasn't sure she liked him.

•

-

•

  "Hanji seems like a nice girl." Farlan smiled in the direction of the young lady as his enthusiastic wife chattered away. He could tell from the girl's expression that she was rather preoccupied with Isabel's rambunctious personality, but it was nice him see his wife so happy.

  "She lied." Levi muttered, glaring in the girl's direction.

  "Hmm? Lied? About what? Her name?" Farlan turned to Levi in confusion, furrowing his brow.

  Levi shook his head, "No, she responds to it far too well for it to be a fake name. I meant her origins. She lied about that. Her hesitance was practically tangible. And she had a hard time explaining it too, I could see that she was sweating and she looked nervous. She was lying." he explained.

  Farlan raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you aren't looking too far into it? That explanation makes it seem like you were just looking for the slightest reason to doubt her. Maybe you were the reason she was nervous. I know I'd be pretty nervous if I got walked in on by the opposite sex while wearing nothing but a shirt for starters." he nudged the disgruntled man with a teasing smirk.

  "I already told you I took no pleasure in that." Levi scowled.

  "Well there's that and the fact that you were glaring at her all evening, and she's with people she doesn't know. Perhaps she is just shy? Don't be so suspicious, Levi. Hanji is just a girl, and a very nice girl at that. Look at how well she gets along with Isabel!" he pointed.

  Levi glanced over and blinked in disinterest. Isabel was chattering excitedly and probing Hanji's hair with her fingers, no doubt determining that she would want the girl to grow it out or something of the like. He sighed and shifted, "No matter, I'm still going to keep an eye on her. Unlike you, I see no reason to trust her implicitly until she gives me one."

  Farlan shrugged, "Suit yourself. But I could bet she has absolutely nothing to be suspicious over."

  Levi wasn't certain of that, but he didn't say anything. To be honest, she was annoyingly familiar, from the moment they found her in the woods he could have sworn he'd seen her before. The memory eluded him, however, and he could only pass it off as coincidence. But when her voice seemed just as familiar as her face, he couldn't help the seed of doubt growing in his chest. Who was that girl?