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Tisha nodded, but no one came out, and the horses were all in their stalls. She went up to her pretty grey mare and stroked her nose, then hooked a lead to her halter. "Can you lead her to the end of the stables? There's leads to hook her to so I can get her saddled. I'll get the others pulled out into the aisle."

Marco entered the stables after she did, and after walking the length of the building with her to make sure all the horses were there, he nodded. He took the lead from her and walked her down the stables, taking her to the other end, quietly talking to her on the way and then hooking her up at the far end so that they could get her saddled.

Tisha followed behind him, opening a few stall doors. The horses were all well trained and knew when Tisha's mare was lead to the end of the aisle, it was time to line up for a ride. Behind the dappled grey mare, a stouter bay gelding stopped, then another mare, this time pure white. The last two followed, a chestnut mare, and then a large black stallion.

Tisha got the tack down, the heavy Western saddles looking to weigh half as much as the young woman, but she handled them with an ease born of repetition and practice. Within twenty minutes, she had the five horses saddled, the bags packed on the ones that would be carrying the main loads, then found five feed bags that they could put over the horses muzzles when it came time to feed them later that night.

Her eyes went to Marco as she let him look over the five horses, though she was doing a double check that all the preparations were in order, that the girths were tightened down so neither of them took a spill from horseback. "Which one do you want to ride, Marco? We'll have to tie the others to the saddle rings, so they'll follow."

Marco looked them all over and nodded. "I'll take the stallion, if you don't mind," he chuckled, seeing the large black male and thinking that it looked like one of the most sturdy and sure-footed of all the horses. It just seemed to fit. He reached out with his paw and stroked the male's mane, then patted its side. Since everything was packed and hooked up, he went about helping her attach the other horses to the right spots on their saddles.

The stout gelding was attached to the ring on the stallion's saddle, and she looked into the warm eyes of the stallion, her hands stroking down either side of his mane as he gently nudges at her torso. She knew he wanted a treat, but she didn't have any on her, since there was no refrigeration anymore. Giving his neck a last pat, she whispered, "We'll find something to give you five as a treat. But first, we have to go to the cabin."

The other two mares were attached to Tisha's grey in a simple method of each one being tied to the rings of the one in front. "Only thing left now is to get leads for all five, as well as their halters, and oats in saddle bags. Those bags can go on the gelding."

A noise came from the doorway behind them, the cocking of a gun, as a feminine voice rang out, "Leave your stuff and get out of here. Those aren't your horses, and I'm not about to let you take them."

Marco had turned to reach over for the wall and grab down the leads for the horses when the voice rang out behind them. He paused, hand extended, and listened for a moment to the voice. He wondered if Tisha knew it, but she was on the far side of the horses and there was no way to ask. He still had his crossbow slung around his neck, but getting and loading it would be nearly impossible. He turned around slowly, "Listen, I don't know who you are, but these horses belong to Tisha..."

Tisha had heard the cocking of the gun, had recognized the voice. It was the owner of the stables, and she wondered where the woman's daughter was. She started to move towards Marco when the tines of a pitchfork tapped her side. So there's the daughter. Both females wouldn't listen to Marco, but the moment he'd said her name, the older woman called out, "Bri?"

The daughter moved the pitchfork to the side slowly, stepping towards Tisha, and putting a hand on her shoulder, turning Tisha to face her. "Ease up, Mom. Tisha's right here." At those words, the older woman eased the hammer back on her gun and turned the safety on. Her gaze, though, remained on Marco, not sure yet if she should trust him.

Well, evidently not everything went down the crapshoot like Marco had begun to think. Things could have ended very badly here for them, but evidently the woman, no, the two women, one was younger and standing near Tisha now, knew his new friend. He licked his tongue over his teeth and made sure that he kept his hands in plain view as he walked away from the horses. He figured it would be best if Tisha did the talking here, though he said, "I'm with her..." pointing to Tisha, "You know these two, Tish?"

Tisha slung her arm around Bri's neck and the two of them headed towards Marco, even as Bri's mother came up the aisle and stroked the horses. Tisha gave the older woman a hug, then settled back to move towards Marco. "Marco got me out of a bit of trouble earlier. He kept a bad thing from getting worse than it was, and I really don't want to get into details. Something has happened to the rest of the family, but I... I can't stop yet. I can't ask Marco how bad it was at the house until we get to the cabin. We're taking our horses up there now, get to a safer place than the city."

The older woman nodded her head, thinking it was a good idea. "Take just the oats that you'll need for about a week. Bri and I will follow with the wagon and the rest of the oats and horses. We might not be in the city, but we're close enough, and if danger found you, it will find us as well."

"Bring clothes that are warm enough for winter, but also summer clothes," Tisha said, finding her chaps and slipping the belt around her, but under the crossbow. She pulled up the zipper along the outside of her legs as she peered up at the two women. "Bring your weapons, but hide as many as you can under the oats, Guns, bows, knives, everything. Canned food. Oil based lamps. Tools like screwdrivers, hand drills, hammers. Oil and candles. Blankets."

Ready to head out, she straightened back up, then looked at Marco, and grinned. "Marco, I'd like you to meet my aunt, Melanie Derricks, and her daughter, my cousin, Brielle."

Marco remained where he was until he was sure that the older woman wasn't going to shoot him with the high-powered rifle that she was holding. When he figured the coast was clear, he went back to work getting the leads for the horses, then finding his own pair of chaps, an adult looking pair that must have been Tisha's father's. He kept the crossbow around his neck and since he didn't have any other bags, he slipped it around one arm as well for easier handling.

He heard Tisha and the women talking, and when at last he had the chaps on and they seemed to be finished chatting, he turned around to be introduced to them. The big canine inclined his head, his muscles flexing a bit and his fur rippling, "Melanie, Brielle...Nice to meet you... Thanks for not shooting on sight." He chuckled, extending his hand.

Melanie gave a low laugh. "We're not like those fool city folk who pull out guns on everyone, with the intention to kill them. Out here, I pull it to protect what belongs to me and mine. And up at the cabin area, the rule of thumb is to only draw your weapon to hunt, and then, it's better to hunt with bows than guns."

Melanie looked to Tisha and nodded. "Remember what I've drilled into your head, Nizhoni." A look seemed to pass between the two, then Melanie turned to Brielle. "Come, Saqui. Let's get our things together to join them at the cabin in a few days."

Tisha smiled at her aunt, nodding, then turned to the horses, leading out her mare, the reins to the second mare pulling her forward, and then the last one. Once the three mares were out of the stable, she mounted her mare and moved her forward to give Marco space to lead the stallion and gelding out. "See you in a week, Citlali," she called to her aunt, while giving her cousin a brief wave.

Marco had nodded in response to her words regarding the guns and their attitude, he understood and was relieved that they hadn't been some strangers. After that though, he was completely lost and basically stood there blinking between the three. Once the aunt and cousin had stepped out, he turned to take hold of the Stallion's lead rope and guide him and the gelding out of the stable and into the sunlight of the silent world.

The two women walked away after the farewell by Tisha, or...whatever they called her. He just shook his head and mounted, making sure to check that the crossbow was secure on his shoulder and within easy reach even after he mounted onto the horse.

Tisha looked at Marco and read the confusion in his eyes after her aunt and cousin headed back into the house. She started them down the trail that was marked by the wagon over the years, and they soon passed from sight of the house. "My uncle was Comanche, and my mother and aunt are part Choctaw. My father has no Native American blood that I know about, but he made sure that my brothers and I knew the ways of our ancestors, and other Native American tribes."

"My aunt took her studies further than my father had pushed us, and learned all the old languages of the various tribes. Nizhoni means 'beautiful' in Navajo, while Saqui means 'favorite' in Mapuche. She's called us both that since... well, since I can remember. And the name I called her, Citlali means 'star' in Nahuatl."

She looked at him, her eyes twinkling as she gave a soft laugh. "And with them coming up to the cabin, you'll start picking up the languages as well. Aunt Melanie will make sure you do. It's one way that we can talk without any outsiders knowing what we're saying. My aunt tends to jumble up the languages, trying to throw us kids, but we've caught onto her tricks."

She looked ahead for a moment, her attention on the path. "If you want, I can start teaching you the languages, and especially the important words that we'll need to use to hide certain information."

He had thought that the language her aunt used was something like a Native American dialect. It had sounded like that, "So basically your family uses it like a code language, sounds neat...It's just like what the army did during World War two, with the Navajo language...the Windtalkers." He smiled and made sure his horse was heading at the same pace as hers. "I guess since you guys will be using it, I had better start picking it up too...so go ahead."

Tisha led them down the path, looking to her side to look at him. Luckily, when they had tied the extra mares and the gelding to the two they were riding, it put the two of them in the middle of the horses, so they didn't have to raise their voices to talk to each other.

"Take... hmmm, well, Waste would be a good one." She pronounced it Wah-shte. "In Lakota it means 'good'. But if you write it down, it spells waste. Which is rather ironic, since waste is not good."

A few moments later as they rode, she moved her crossbow to her hand and set a bolt into it, having spotted something. Firing, she set the bolt into a wild rabbit, and then looked over to him before dismounting carefully after looking around. "Ukaleq," she said as she took the hare and tied it by the hind feet to her mare's saddle.

Marco was interested in learning more about her family now that she had told him what she had, about their ancestors. He realized that she was showing an amazing amount of trust in him. After all, she hadn't even asked his own background or anything. He saw the tactical advantage of using a language that not many people knew, and so he looked back at her as she began to teach him a bit. "Waste.... You say it nearly..." He paused as she whipped out her crossbow and shot a rabbit.

"Damn, you're pretty good with that thing... Remind me never to get on your bad side." He laughed, then repeated, "Ukaleq"...

Tisha grinned as she remounted her mare, then fiddled with the crossbow, so it sat laying on her forearm, the trigger resting in the palm of her hand. "I grew up learning how to use this as pretty much an extension of myself," she laughed, giving a shake of her head. "The normal bows, like that compound one you saw back at home, was too hard for me to use when I was little, and I wanted to do what my dad and older brother were doing. I wasn't more than three years old when I got my first hand crossbow."

She looked at him, then shook her head, wanting to say more, but knowing the woods they had entered had ears. "I'll tell you more about my prowess with it later. As for my language skills, you were about to say?"

Behind them, far enough not to be seen, but close enough to be heard and scented, since they were downwind, a young kitty grumbled about the loss of the hare that the human had shot out from under her. Granted, the human was fast with that damn weapon, but that hare was supposed to be her meal tonight, and now, she had to go find something else to stalk. Daylight was running out, and she was rather hungry.

Marco nodded, "Yeah, we can talk about that later...I was saying that it sounded like you said 'waste' in the normal way... Like it's not too much different from our own language." He paused and adjusted his own crossbow, wanting to make sure it was ready when the time came to use it. If they ran into anything larger than that bunny, they might be able to take it down for food, or if a person, well... they would be ready.

Neither of them saw the kitty that had nearly been skewered by the bolt which Tisha had launched. It had scampered away before she had gotten close and had hidden itself.

Tisha lead them down the trail, a pair of eyes following them as they rode, stalking them from the sides of the path they rode down. Looking over at Marco, she shrugged lightly. "I've learned how to make it blend into English some. It works when you don't want someone knowing that you liked something, and by calling it waste instead of trash makes you seem a little more mysterious."

She gave a low laugh that threatened to turn to a sob for a moment before she pulled herself under control. "It never worked on my brothers, though, since they got the same training I did." She looked up at him on her father's stallion, then saw a couple things. First was a squirrel on a tree. Leaning towards Marco, she pointed to it, and said, "Sissinnguaq." After he repeated the word, like he had the one for hare, she pointed to a nest with a single feather peaking out of it. A large feather, which meant a large bird. "Shikoba."

Behind them, the kitty was listening intently to the human female's words, and followed her eyes as the human pointed to the squirrel. Lifting her own bow, she sent an arrow between the two of them to land directly in the squirrel's skull. Reaching down, she pulled some wild thyme up and stuck it in her pouch, planning on using it to cook her squirrel dinner tonight. It was better than nothing, but she really detested squirrel meat, not that there was much on a squirrel in the first place.

He chuckled with her and shook his head, pretending not to notice the near sob that slipped from her lips when she mentioned her brothers. He kept his horse on the path ahead of them, and as she taught him about the words of the indian language, he would repeat them, committing them to memory so that he could use them later if he needed to. He had glanced up at the sky in the distance, and noted some clouds began to move across the horizon. He was about to mention them when there was a THUNK! that slammed into the tree not too far ahead of them, where the squirrel was that she had pointed out.

The feathered shaft of the arrow now sticking out of the squirrel's brains at first shocked him, then he realized that someone who was close enough to do that was close enough to split either of their skulls as well. Unfortunately, there was no easy way to turn around on the horses to see who was behind them, "Um... Tish..."

It was easier for Tisha to maneuver on horseback, having been taught by her aunt to do so. But it was far easier to swing her leg over her horses neck and slide to the ground, her mare stopping completely as the reins fell to the ground. Knowing her mare was well trained not to move in this instance, Tisha gripped the trigger of her crossbow as she looked into the woods to see who was following them. Her shoulders went back as she gave Marco the time to get down, too, a whispered, "Don't worry. 'Brute' there won't leave the mares." The stallion's nickname slipped from her, something her youngest brother had called the large full male horse. He'd been too young to say the stallion's true name, and Brute just seemed to fit him as well.

Her attention swung back to the woods, her eyes scanning in the direction the shot had come from, and she growled out, "Show yourself, you lily-livered chicken shit!" She was furious that someone was trying to kill them, from behind, at that. Only a coward would shoot someone in the back. Inside, though, she was trembling. That arrow had been too close... She could have lost.... She forced the looming mental breakdown away as she stood her ground.

Slightly caught up to their spot on the road, but still within the woods, the kitty stepped out, not quite where they were looking. "You stole my dinner, so I had to get that squirrel before it got away. What the hell are you city folk doing up here anyway?"

Marco had been worried that the horses would bolt, but after watching Tisha slip down from the horse and it remain in its position, he was already moving when she told him that his own horse would stay put. He hopped to the ground on the far side of the horses, brought his crossbow out and drew an arrow, knocking it into the weapon. He crept forward as he heard her challenge to whomever had fired that arrow. He slipped into the trees, following training that he had learned quite a long while ago, and posted himself behind the trunk of a large one, watching the woods on the other side.

He saw the kitty step out and he adjusted his aim, but she wasn't threatening them with any weapon, and so he stepped from the trees as well, making sure to keep her covered. "What do you mean, stole your dinner?" he asked carefully. "And as for what we're doing up here... Let's just say that it isn't safe in the city any more."

Tisha broke into a grin as Marco appeared behind the kitty, but she didn't let that lower her attention and awareness of their surroundings any. They didn't know if this kitty was travelling alone, or had her own backup to sneak up on them. The human female stared at the kitty girl for a few minutes, waiting for her to answer Marco, a deja vu sensation flowing over her.

The kitty did speak up, and she tossed her head to look over her shoulder at the husky male. Her eyes gave him a lingering once over, before she lifted her free paw, since one was still holding the bow, and pointed at the rabbit that Tisha had shot with the bolt. "That rabbit was going to be my dinner, but Tisha there stole it out from under me, just like she's done for years."

Tisha looked at the kitty a little closer, then groaned. "I ought to put this bolt in you, Selina. Only reason I haven't is because your mother would mourn your death. But I would be well and free of the one upmanship you keep trying on me. You might know some things about surviving out here, but I was taught my crossbow and hunting skills by experts."

Looking over to Marco, she called him over. "Marco, this is Selina Elwyn. Her mother was best friends with my mother and aunt. Selina, this is Marco. He.. he rescued me in the city. When something bad was happening. Something worse than what you would think is bad."

The Cat looked back at Marco again and he gave her a 'What? It's true' look followed by a nod and the lowering of his weapon. Someone else that knew Tisha, evidently, and he didn't want to make her think he was threatening her with his bow drawn like that. He released and removed the arrow from the crossbow, slipping it back into his quiver and walking up the path, past Selina and to Tisha's side, "Hello Selina..." he said finally, leaving it at that as he walked around back over to Brute and touched his side.