The wind ruffled her short, golden hair.

It was her favorite time of the year. That moment between fall and winter, where the snow clouds filled the sky, but no snow fell. But now was not the time to be thinking of such things. Oh no, now was the time to focus.

The golden-haired woman sat perched on a branch. Perched in just a way that she could easily jump down if needed. She had made sure the branches had hidden her well, but only time would tell if well enough. Eventually, the sound of soft voices and the thudding of horses hooves interrupted the chilled silence of the forests air. The fair-haired lass tensed for a moment, before grabbing the hilt of her dagger and gripping it for dear life. The sounds grew louder, until the source had come into view. Two men, one riding a chestnut-colored horse. The other walked, a rifle lazily resting in his arms. The woman readied herself, this was that moment...That oh so crucial moment between victory or failure. As the two passed under her tree, she jumped down.

Her breath caught in her throat as she hit the dirt. She had missed her target, but how?! Looking up, and clearing the snow from her green eyes...She saw now. The horse bolted down the path, his rider missing. The rifle-baring man, lay dead. His blood staining the earth. Her target, however, was a bit off of the path, laying on his back. A man stood over him. Dressed in furs as if he were the beast he dressed as. He removed a tomahawk from her target's chest.

He had killed her target.

The woman quickly stood, her movements causing the man to look over his shoulder. She couldn't see his face well enough to know who he was or if he meant her harm. Taking a few steps back, she was alarmed to see that he spun around and approached her. Blood dripped from his tomahawk as he held it in his right hand. A offensive position.

He meant to kill her as well.

Her eyes narrowed. In an instant she turned and bolted. If her master could see her, he would be proud of how fast she ran. Her feet pounding on the terrain as she dodged trees, rocks, and everything else nature threw in her path. The woman did not dare glance over her shoulder. For a moment she was concerned, her hood must have fallen away from her head as she jumped from the tree. That man knew her face. Something told her, he would not forget it.

It was becoming hard to breath. The cold air burned her chest and lungs. But did she stop her running? No. Not yet.

The city of Pennsylvania neared, and relief washed over her. As she neared, a searing pain caught her in the back of the knee. The woman fell like a rock.

The pain was...intense. Like a gun-wound, almost. Her vision blurred, surely not from the wound. Unless...

The woman looked at herself, and spotted the source of such pain. An arrow, stuck out of the back of her knee, barely dodging going through and harming the whole thing. A precise move...An expert move. Hissing in pain as she tried to move the leg, she shook her head. It was a muggy feeling.

Voices yelled, in some language she didn't know. Didn't care to know. All that mattered, was getting help.

Another woman, this one with tanner skin, loomed over her. Her head tilting back and forth. Her lips moving, but only muffled sound reached the fair-haired woman's ears.

The last thing she saw, was the beastly-man standing beside the woman, and raising his tomahawk.

Her head hit the dirt, and she succumbed to the nearing darkness.

Catherine Reynolds opened her green eyes but immediately closed them again.

Her vision as a bit blurring and her head felt as if she had just woken from a hangover. By God almighty, what a predicament.

Opening her eyes again, she looked around. Not recognizing her surroundings, she immediately sat up and regretted that decision. Her knee sent a sharp pain up and down her leg. Catherine hissed in pain. Biting her lip until she tasted iron, she looked around. She appeared to be in some...Odd wooden house, yet it had no door. Just a flap from what looked like animal skins.

There was a fire in the middle of the odd house, and she could hear babbling and laughing from outside. Though the language was not English. She couldn't possibly be in a Native camp?

Her suspicion was confirmed as a woman pulled back the 'door' and entered. Taking one look at Catherine, the woman approached. She placed a hand on Catherine's head, causing the golden-haired woman to flinch and try to scoot away. The woman babbled something in that language of theirs before saying something Catherine could understand.

"How do you feel?"

So she spoke the Kings English? "I feel...odd." Catherine replied, in earnest. The woman simply nodded and left. Catherine was left staring as she just left. Well then...

Laying back down, Catherine closed her eyes and listened to the new sounds around her. There was, faint singing and chanting. It sounded...Nice. Odd, but nice.
The smell of spices and meats could be smelled and Catherine's mouth nearly watered. Her stomach growled and she placed a hand over it.
The sound of children laughing and arguing filled the air as well. This was just like being in one of the cities. Just, in a different language and custom.

Catherine soon drifted off. She awoke once more to a cold wetness being applied to her face.
Opening her eyes, she was met with warm, brown ones. The woman was patting a cool cloth to her face and humming something very faintly. Catherine blinked up at her, "My name is Catherine...Catherine Reynolds." The woman stopped to look at Catherine, seemingly a bit shocked by the sudden introduction. But Catherine only deemed it polite. The woman had yet to kill her and hell, that was a good thing!

"My name is Kaniehtí:io " The woman, Kaniehtí:io , put the cloth back in a wooden bowl filled with water and began to exit. Catherine spoke quickly, "Thank you ..Kan..Eh...Er.." The woman gave what sounded like a small chuckle, "Ziio. Just call me Ziio." With that, she left Catherine to her thoughts.

Catherine lifted her leg and tried bending the knee, it worked at first. No pain, but then...It hit like a cannonball. Hissing, she slowly lowered her leg back onto the pallet and looked up at the ceiling.
It was then the animal skins parted, this time she was not calmed at seeing who had entered. The beast-man. Clad in furs, wolf furs now that Catherine was close enough to see.

His face was strong, as was his build. His body was laced with intricate paints. Catherine tensed. He did not seem as friendly as his female friend. The beast didn't seem to notice her, and Catherine tried to keep from being noticed. But he soon looked over his shoulder, a lot like he did the day she got shot in the knee. Which reminded her, how long had she been here...?

As her mind was occupied elsewhere, the beast-man approached her and stood over her. Even his shadow was menacing!

Catherine frowned and reached to grab her dagger. It was gone, as were her trousers...and blouse...and boots. Well, this was odd. The only thing covering her was a blanket.
That worsened the moment for Catherine and her brows furrowed, "What?!" She yelled at the man, she tried to seem brave. But even she could hear that small quiver of fear.

The beast said nothing and left as his female friend re-entered the home. The two exchanged glances before he left. Catherine really could care less why, she just wanted to leave.

"Three days, you need to walk." Ziio said as she held a bundle of clothing. "I will help you get dressed."

After a few minutes of Ziio scolding and eventually yelling at Catherine to stop, the woman was dressed in the clothing she had seen only on Natives. She was surprised to say it was rather comfy, and warm.

Ziio supported Catherine as she left the safety of that house, for the outside. The moccasins on her feet protected her small toes from the cold. As Catherine looked up at the sky, she smiled a bit as flakes of snow began to fall. The kids stopped their running to look at Catherine, and Catherine looked right back. Curious to them, as they were to her.

Ziio led Catherine around. Catherine would hesitantly ask questions, to which Ziio would answer. As the two neared the house, of which Catherine learned was Ziio's, Catherine frowned when she saw the beast-man waiting. His arms were crossed and he looked...well..angry.

Catherine heard Ziio sigh as they neared the beast-man. The two exchanged words in the native tongue before Ziio looked at her. "This is my son, Ratonhnhaké:ton. He will help you get your strength back."

Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered something to his mother which earned him a glare. Catherine felt like a doll as she was handed over to the beast-man, as she would continue to call him. She leaned on him and was disgruntled to see that he didn't support her in a very...Gentle way. Ziio eyed her son, giving him a warning look before going back inside of the house. Ratonhnhaké:ton, or beast-man, began practically dragging Catherine towards the woods.

This was it...She was going to die...