Grey storm clouds gathered in the wooded trail...Though she knew the shortcut would be worth it, if only she thought she could make it home before the rains came. Autumn winds silently whispered their secrets and stirred the leaves. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her trenchcoat, nearly shivering. She didn't hear the sound of dirt being scratched up....It was only when she heard a splash, did she jolt from her musings and look around. She nearly forgot about the river that flowed only a few yards away to her right from the trail, for the rivier was usually quiet.
She stumbled and wove around the trees, and as she made it near the banks of the river, she heard a scream that froze her in her tracks for only a moment before she raced to the source of the sound. She peered from a tree to see what was happening.
She could see the ripples hit the banks of the river, yet there was no current. She saw a boy on the other bank, his grimy clothes clung to his lanky body as he jumped up and down with sardonic glee. He laughed sinisterly and jeered at the water...Until someone jolted to the surface to gasp in the air.
She gasped, for the man to jolt out of the water was bruised and bleeding. His clothes were torn, and she could see deep gashes in his skin. He tried to swim to the banks, until a large hand grabbed him by the throat and pulled him under.
She stared in horror as two other men emerged from the water, dragging the coughing and choking man to the shore. But instinct began to warm her blood...Only when she recognized the injured man, did her blood boil red hot. Her eyes darkened to black voids, as she boldly walked out of her hiding place.
The winds picked up, causing her trenchcoat to billow to one side, revealing her knee high boots with glittering metal loops, which covered her pants halfway. she wore a long sleeved, white shirt that was loose around her. Her cold glare met the shocked gaze of the little boy, ceasing his taunts.
The two men looked back to the shore where she stood.
She slipped her hands out of her outer trenchoat pockets and into her trenchcoat.
"Leave him alone," she shouted over the gathering winds.
"What are you gonna do? Throw rocks at us?" one of the men guffawed as he lifted the injured man with ease. He looked away, hoping to see the unconscious bloodied face of his victim, only to meet the gaze of the woman who was standing at the other shore, but now standing before him.
She cocked her head, those black voids glittered with a grim humor before she brought her fist to his face. The moment took them by surprise, for as the other man moved to grab her from behind, her back heel met his crotch with a kick so powerful he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. The boy was thrown into the water from a gut kick. The first man, nose bloodied, shouted and tried to make a punch for her. She ducked and his fist came into contact with a tree.
Her eyes lightened as she gazed down at the injured man with torn clothes. He was halfway on shore, and his blood poured into the river. Her eyes rolled back to whites as she took her trenchcoat off to cover him, unknowlingly ducking from a punch from the guy who was kicked in the crotch.
She straightened herself, her face about to meet the grasp of the bloodied-nose man. But as she struck out her grinning face, he closed his arms around her---or at least, he thought it was her. He lost balance and fell into the water. He jolted up, sputtering, looking around and under him, but she was no where in sight.
The little boy crawled to the shore where the trenchcoat was draped over the body...But as he lifted the coat away, the body was gone.

She was halfway down her trail when she was met by a familiar face.
"William!" she called to the young man at the gate.
The man ran to her, until he stood towering over her. He lifted the body with ease from her shoulders and walked with her through the gates and inside the opened doors.
"Its Aramis," she uttered as she climbed the steps with him. "I-I don't know what was going on, but-"
William halted his steps and looked down at her, "He'll be all right..."
She smoothed the wet curls from his brow, sighed. "Are you sure?"
William nodded, smiled ruefully, "He's as young of mind as you. He must have gotten into some trouble on the way home."
They came to the top of the stairs and walkled not too far down the corridor to go into a darkened threshold.
Rain began to tap at the large glass window and the lightning illuminated the room briefly. She found a candle and lit the wick. The waning flame casting a faint light in the room to reveal a large bed and a chair under a writing desk. in front of the bed, a dark fireplace opened its empty mouth.

William set him down, though the man's feet hung over the edge of the bed.  Then he walked to the fireplace tohelp her throw logs in.  He grabbed four with ease as she struggled with two.  He hid his mused grin, but admired her strength.

"I'll take care of the fire, just bring me some linen and a bowl of warm water," he told her.

She threw her two logs in and bolted out of the room and down the stairs.

William continued to fill up the fireplace until she came back into the room, linen cloth draped over her arms as she carried a bowl of warm water to the nightstand.

William knelt before the fireplace, a flint stirker in his hand to light the fire.  He had his back to her, but as he heard her coming, he said, "Get him out of his shirt at least, and I'll help you out with the rest."

She looked at the height of the bed.  She knew she could probably reach him if she were on the tips of her toes, despite that the top of the bed came to her mid-torso.  She swallowed nervously, gazed at the deep cuts and gashes on his body.  She wondered how this could have happened.

She took the linen off her arms and folded it next to the bowl of water.  She then peeled off the shreds of clothing that used to be his shirt.  His left side however, was still clothed.

William stood back up and reached into the cabinet over the hearth to grab two dark green glass bottles.