• Even just with the slight breeze, Cala could feel it under her cap. Her hair blazed red in the sun, even though she had thrown dirt in it that morning to make it look brown. The man hadn't noticed yet, though.He was too busy preparing to kill her with his long sword. Then again, he didn't know it was her. He thought it was the man who had stolen his woman. But it was actually her sister. He would never know. At least, he wouldn't if he sliced her head off.

    The man drew up his sword, two fingers sliding down to the end of the blade. Then he cut himself on his fingertip, the blood curving its way down to his elbow. His eyes were filled with rage, clouded with exhaustion, and gleaming with revenge. He looked scary. Scary, despite what she had seen throughout her life. Downright scary.

    The man charged at her, his sword high up in the air, and shouted, "To the death!" as loud as she thought he possibly could. Cala took in a deep, noisy breath through her nose. She sighed silently, and rose her bow and arrow. "To the death," she agreed in a whisper.