The Warrior

If it hadn't been for the oversized lantern with the piece of red cloth blowing like a streamer from it's base, she may have walked right past the building. From where she stood, business appeared slow doing nothing to improve her confidence. There had been only one very drunk merchant decked out in his Solstice best enter since she taken up watch across the street. And nobody, not a soul had come out. Xena nudged …

…of self-consciousness, gone was the morning's battle and the boy, gone too, the ever present thoughts of her bard. "How many can you take?" Came the low pitched tones of this new stranger. The girl raised her head slightly, angling her gaze on the very tip of the bed head. "As many as you wish." she replied, composing herself against the impending strikes. And as the leather sung above her, she whispered. "I am yours."