Year 765 Hippocampus Rush

 Why? Because of his piercing gaze, she didn’t dare to ask this time. This was the second time he had become reliant on her skills, and she felt strangely giddy about it. This town is a complex grid of alleyways, circles, and junctures. In a panic, a normal person would run themselves into a dead end.

The whole map of this town-after weeks of sneaking through it-is drawn up in her mental scape. She’ll get him to the harbor in no time.

If only he could climb everywhere like she does. Her feet slapped on the beaten dirt, charging straight out towards the front wooden gate. Keeping a short distance from the pirate captain. Then out of the gate they went. She could hear the goons calling out to one and another.

“THEY GETTIN’ AWAY!? GO AFTER ’EM!”

The chase ensues. With a head start like this, they might be able to keep their distance. Just as long as neither of them get any slower. She would pick any path that would confuse their pursuers, sometimes picking the alleyways that had fences that she could hike over without a single sweat. Connor may be much taller, but he is weighed down by the muscles that feed his strength. He will scale these fences and muscle most of it.

She would count the half breaths it would take him to get over these fences. Having to slow herself down to have him keep up. He is still impressive at keeping pace with her and had enough energy to keep running.

“I can catch up. Just GO!”

Yeah, right. “You are heavier than me, just keep up this pace and we will be-”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

These crazy goons are shooting at whoever!? Rhea gritted her teeth, a part of her wanted to turn around and face the stupid assholes.

Connor bumped her bicep with a fist, getting her to snap out of out. “Enough DAWDDLING! GO!”

Rhea forced herself to keep running towards the direction of the harbor. People scattered and screamed when they heard the gunshots. They started to run inside, barring their windows and doors.

She chose to cut to the right, Connor right behind her. This way was a set of stairs that zig and zagged. This is still the best way, but she could make it better. Instead of going down them like a normal person, her eyes trained on some perfectly good crates lining up high on the rooftops. She beeline to those instead, easily bounding up the crates and scaling to reach the rooftop. Now she was on a flat rooftop surface and checking the next building to jump on. From here she could see the sails of the ships that anchored. Connor might not be as fast as her, but he is stronger, stepping onto each crate and pulling himself up on the roof. He had this annoyed look on his face, tethering to question her, but he changed his expression when he saw the sails.

“We are getting closer.” Connor muttered, hinting at his doubt.

“Told you. Keep going.” Rhea raced over this rooftop and leapt over a gap to the next one. She didn’t need to roll, picking the easier options so that the captain could follow. They aren’t exactly out of the woods of the chase yet. Her left ear could hear the distant shooting and yelling.

Connor scoffs at her retort, fighting down whatever normal mortal reaction. He bounded over the gap with ease, she was content that he could at least catch up to her this way too. They moved like this till Connor grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her down with him. His arm roped around her shoulder and the other hand gripped her closest arm away in case she retaliated. The way they knelt had them touching their legs and this close she could smell the sea with hints of spices off him. His arms flexed strongly over her, her strength was miniscule to what she felt underneath that sleeved arm, let alone the clothed thigh that touched her bare one. Just tight muscles wrapping around the bone.

Holy Manuk!?

The huntress wanted to scratch his eyes out for physical closeness, her heart pounding in her ears with a mixture of confusion and rage that birthed from the confusion. Thankfully, his eyes survived another day when she could clearly hear the loyalist gang trudging along the pathway below them.

“I could’ve sworn they were here!? Arrgh keep lookin’.”

They charged down some distance, enough for her to bravely vocalize her gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Hmph.” His simple answer said a lot if not for the scowl that etched his face. Judging her and reprimanding her just with that, his whole aura is intense and intimidating. It might’ve worked if she hadn’t been so embarrassed by the close contact and thinking the wrong things.

“Uh-huh. Can you let go?” Rhea budges the arm that was held in a vice grip. A very strong grip, one that explains the way he knocked the blades out of people’s grip earlier.

Connor did exactly that, not embarrassed at all compared to her. He crawled over the edge of the rooftop, peeking.

“Never thought a gang would hate a person this much.”

She thought she imagined his ridicule, looking all around her before it landed on him. It really was him!

Rhea crawled over too; in a hushed tone she retorted back, a pout forming on her face. “I may have stolen their goods. But you killed their leader...”

“Hmph” There he goes again with his simple answer. Though simple, his face wasn’t as annoyed as earlier.

Maybe he does have a heart... Rhea opened her mouth again to argue with the simple answer, only for him to cut her off.

“That...” Connor is focused on someone walking in the distance. She followed his gaze to confirm it. She wasn’t given the time to investigate further.

Without a word, Connor found his way down the building by hopping onto an awning, then a parked cart. He bounded towards the figure that they were staring at earlier. Leaving Rhea behind, gaping.

“W-Wait!? Mister?”

She is stupid to follow him, internally screaming at her every motion to scale down this building. She mentally chastises herself at every one of her own steps to keep up behind him, stupid to keep tabs on his broad shoulders. Cussed herself beneath her breath when they do reach this individual.

Connor skidded to a stop, Rhea nearly crashing into him.

This male stranger they followed turned to look at them. Brown eyes were as wide as dinner plates, blinking slowly at them. Light brown hair swept back by a bandana and a braided lock on his left temple with a white orbed gem tying it together, built scraggly carrying two swords on his hips and a shotgun on his back. He had grown out a short patch of hair along his thin cheeks and chin. He must’ve been around closing in on his thirtieth birth moon but even then, Rhea is over guessing. His thinness might be giving him more age. Most of what he wore was patched up with more fabric, with the same amount of effort to fix his toe-covered sandals. A tan trouser top adorned with orange patches on the elbow joint of the sleeves, dark blue sleeveless blazer and shorts that hung loose to his knees by a simple rope.

“C-capt?” The man squinted at Connor, then at Rhea.

“Jerold...” Connor’s face wasn’t so twisted up with a scowl, is he relieved?

Who is this man?