The first time they met it was raining. Then again, it wasn't uncommon for it to rain in Noxus.

She was doing one of her usual patrols outside of the capitol, a drab cloak her only protection from the rain. There was a small grove of trees not too far ahead and she figured it would be alright for her to seek some shelter there momentarily. Not like she was going to find much today in this weather.

A lazy whistle escaped her lips and was quickly answered by a loud cry from the sky.

"He's probably more uncomfortable than I am," she mumbled as she hurried towards the trees.

Valor normally loved flying but this weather made it difficult for him to enjoy. He probably needed to take a break more than she did. Her whistle had indicated that it was time to rest for a bit and he didn't hesitate to swoop down into the thick branches of the trees.

Autumn meant that the leaves were sparse and made it difficult to hide out from the rain, but she managed to find a spot under a tall oak that kept her from being completely soaked. It was the best she could get and at this point she'd take anything to escape the constant downpour.

She set her crossbow at her side and began to rub her gloved hands together, hoping that some amount of friction would spark even the slightest amount of warmth between them. When that failed she reached for the journal she kept strapped to her side and removed the piece of paper she'd stuffed inside.

"Maybe they're right?" she sighed, "Maybe it is him after all."

As she studied the piece of paper for the hundredth time she still had her doubts. They were orders from King Jarvan himself, something she'd never received before and couldn't quite believe had been entrusted to her. He sought for the capture of a Noxian assassin that had taken the lives of four higher ups among the Demacian military and attempted to go after the king himself. The only thing wrong was the culprit.

She read his name over and over again, shaking her head. It wasn't right. He wasn't sloppy like that, nor was he stupid enough to directly attack the King of Demacia. She'd been studying him for months, listening to accounts from eye witnesses to his work as well as personally seeing the aftermath of what he'd done. A clear image had been painted in her mind; he was quick and precise, hardly leaving a trace that he'd even existed at the scenes of each crime. He was also impossibly annoying to track.

She'd never been able to see his face, the most she'd seen was his hooded silhouette at a distance. There was a crude sketch of him accompanying the orders, but it was unable to depict his face. Just a scary, hooded figure. That didn't give her a lot to go off of.

King Jarvan had noted that the assassin was believed to be heading towards Golden Crossing. And yet here the scout was, in a completely different place.

Too obvious, she thought.

He'd never go somewhere that could be predicted; he was aware of every move his enemy made and was always two steps ahead of them.

Garen had insisted that Golden Crossing was where they would find the culprit and had laughed at her when she suggested otherwise. But she managed to convince the prince and so he had given her permission to follow her own lead.

And look how that turned out.

She didn't know how long she sat under that goddamn tree. It felt like it could've been days by the time the rain started to let up.

Her dark hair still clung to the sides of her face, icy and damp on her cheeks. Her body was numb after being still and cold for so long. She needed to get up and moving before she genuinely froze to death there. She sincerely hoped that Valor was doing better.

As she reached for her crossbow, a deafening screech pierced the air, putting her on alert immediately. That had been Valor calling to her, warning her of a nearby threat. And from how loud and urgent he'd been, that threat had to be very close.

She flung herself down at her crossbow, rolling over onto her back and aiming it straight up at the tree that had been shielding her for so long. Sure enough, Valor's cry had been warranted.

A hooded figure sat among the branches, staring directly at her.

She went to pull the trigger on her crossbow but her fingers were so raw and numb that she couldn't even feel the trigger beneath them. How could she let her guard down so easily? What a stupid way to go.

"I'll be honest, I didn't think your little friend would be able to see me up here with all this rain."

She wasn't dead. Odd. Why wasn't he killing her?

As she tried to understand what exactly was going on, Valor darted from his perch in the trees and went to his partner's side, shielding her from the stranger and shrieking angrily at him.

"Hey, you caught me fair and square. I'm actually kind of impressed."

The figure suddenly hopped down from his branch, causing Valor to instantly shriek at him again and ruffle his feathers.

"Can you call off the attack bird?" the stranger asked, "If I wanted to kill you, I would've done it by now."

He was right. Why he hadn't killed her was still a mystery, but she wasn't in the position to be questioning his motives. Plus, with the state she was in, she wouldn't be able to help Valor if he decided to attack said stranger and then they'd both be dead.

"Valor, stand down," she said weakly.

The eagle made a confused noise as he looked back at her, but upon seeing her nod her head reassuringly, he shuffled to the side.

The man was hard to see, blurred by the constant rain getting in the scout's eyes as she tried to make out a shape. There was a hood and a cape but that was all she could be sure of.

"Who are you?" she asked, slowly flexing her fingers. The feeling was beginning to return to her body.

The man didn't answer, just stepped closer and looked down at her.

He was tall she realized, taller than she had expected. The blue cloak looked slightly darker from the rainwater that soaked it, but she was still able to recognize it.

She wasn't sure why she had asked him about his identity – it wasn't like he was going to willingly answer her. Perhaps she just wanted to hear him say it, to know that she was right. Until then, she would have her doubts.

An unimpressed snort came from the hooded figure upon hearing her question, and instead he turned and looked at the journal that had been dropped and instead replaced by a crossbow. Wordlessly, he picked it up and found the paper the scout had just been looking at.

"So, you're the one who's been following me all this time."

His words were sinister, yet the woman could've sworn that she heard him laugh under his breath. Her hands had regained their feeling and she managed to find the trigger again, hovering just above it.

"A Demacian scout…" he muttered, "Can't say I'm surprised. Though Jarvan would be disappointed about losing yet another soldier."

So, he did plan on killing her. That was her cue.

Her finger pulled back on the trigger, firing a bolt straight at his chest. What followed afterwards was a blur. He'd moved so quickly she wasn't sure if he was actually human.

The bolt whizzed past his arm as he stepped to the side, a low growl from his throat sending a shiver down the scout's spine. In an instant, the crossbow had been knocked away, a strong hand clasping around her neck and hoisting her into the air. As she gasped for a breath he pressed her against the trunk of the tree, bringing up his free arm to display the enormous blade he was so well known for using. Valor shrieked and lunged to attack, but saw that his partner would be killed if he attempted to intervene. He let a low hiss as he glared at the assassin, ruffling his feathers.

"I said I wasn't going to kill you, why'd you go and do that?" he sighed, bringing the blade closer to her face.

She could only gasp for air in response, clawing at his hand violently in hopes of escape. His grip relaxed slightly but the blade remained, hovering just below her chin.

"How did you find me?" she asked as she gasped for air, sighing with relief as oxygen filled her lungs once again.

"I should be asking you the same question," he hissed.

A small smirk played at her lips; he was annoyed that someone had been able to track him down. She'd never exactly caught him, but still she had managed to accomplish something.

"King Jarvan believes you're responsible for the murder of multiple Demacian officials," she answered, "So I'm here to stop you from continuing your reign of terror."

He was silent for a moment. His face was hidden by his hood, only his mouth partially visible, refusing to allow any emotion show that might hint at what he was thinking.

"Of course, I know that's not true," she continued.

The assassin made the same unimpressed noise as before.

"And how do you know that?"

Her smirk grew. She knew that she had to put on a brave face in front of him. He could practically smell the fear on his victims. So even if she was scared out of her mind, she had to at least pretend she was confident.

"The style's all wrong. This guy eviscerated his victims, went to town on them. You're quite the opposite. A quick, clean cut to the throat and that's all… It seems that you don't like to leave a mess. Plus, I can't imagine you doing something as high profile as attempting to assassinate the king himself. You're too smart for that."

She couldn't see it, but she swore that he raised an eyebrow at this answer.

"How do you know all of this?"

His voice had changed; it wasn't as confident or sinister as it had been. It was almost as if he didn't understand what she was saying, like she was speaking a different language.

"I've been watching you for a while, Talon."

The blade instantly pressed up against her cheek, a small sting causing her to flinch. Yet she remained steadfast as she felt the blood trickle down her skin, her eyes unwavering as she realized that she had finally caught her prey.

"You're smarter than most Demacians, I'll give you that, birdbrain."

"I'm honored. The name's Quinn, by the way."

He scoffed as he pulled the blade back ever so slightly, tilting his head as he looked at her. This was new to him. He'd never encountered anyone like this before. He was used to them crying and begging for their lives when he interrogated them. But she was different.

"You're strange," he said after a while, "But you're also the only one to ever make it this far. It'd be a shame if I let this game of cat and mouse end so soon, don't you think?"

She remained silent, wishing she could see the face under the hood. To know what he looked like, the face of the man she'd sought after for so long. It almost wasn't fair. It was like he was teasing her.

"I'll take that as a yes. In that case, 'til next time, birdie."

Quinn had barely blinked by the time he'd disappeared and she took a moment to catch her breath before looking around for any traces of him. Of course, there were none.

Valor quickly raced to her side and cawed at her, asking if she was alright.

"I'm fine, just a scratch," she assured as she pet the eagle on his head, "Besides, he was just doing it to show off."

The bird flapped his wings slightly, leaning his head towards her hand in order to get more scratches.

"He didn't exactly say it, but I'm pretty sure he's not the culprit the king's looking for."

Valor cawed in agreement. Quinn's hand moved down to stroke his back, tilting her head up to look into the tree branches.

"Now to find him again."