The two women arrived at the entrance of the Ajar Forest.

"Goodbye, Elia," Sable said. "I hope we meet again." The ranger meant it; she had not had company for years, and she was glad she became acquainted with Elia. She faced the tall, short-haired, blond woman and extended a hand.

Elia shook Sable's small hand. "I was glad to meet you. Thank you for saving me."

Sable smiled. "I could not just let that happen. Besides, I got to learn more about what the rogues were doing in the forest."

Elia nodded understandingly. "How will I find you again?"

"I know the forest very well, so I would probably find you first," Sable said. "I scout every day. Don't worry about not finding me."

"Very well then," the warrioress replied. "If I hear something about an alacat fur trade in town, I will be sure to find you."

Elia soon departed the Ajar Forest, leaving Sable behind. The dark-haired ranger made her way back to the tree cavern, feeling satisfaction from helping the warrioress. It was an overwhelming feeling of doing something 'right'. It reminded her of her own rescue by her grandmother. She would not be alive if it was not for her humane decision.

Entering the tree cavern, Sable approached one of the woven baskets to add more arrows into her quiver. She left shortly to find the other rogue by retracing the last area she had seen him near her archery practice.

The two wire cages, which the dead rogues had dropped, were left untouched. Luckily, Sable spotted separate footprints imprinted on the soil. They were faint but readable.

It seems he did not return to search for them, Sable thought quietly. His footprints did not over cross the other rogues's, so she assumed he went without them. Sable understood why he probably had not followed them; they were bickering like little children which had probably annoyed him.

The footprints faded at a small, trickling stream. The ranger frowned. Perhaps he had crossed over to the other side of the forest, she thought with at least hope. Not wanting to wet her white rabbit fur boots, Sable balanced herself on the step of stones that acted like a bridge. As she had hoped, his footprints did continue on the other side, clearer and moister than before.

The forest soon cut into a glade. The ranger froze when she spotted the brownish-red haired rogue sleeping under a tree with his cage several feet away. Sable instinctively grabbed her bow, tempted to shoot him in the head, but she lowered her weapon and hid behind a shrub that was large enough to conceal her presence. She would wait.

After some time had passed, the ranger grew impatient waiting for the rogue to awaken. Picking up a rock, Sable hurled it against the cage.

The loud metallic clang barely stirred the rogue whom merely just grumbled in his sleep. What a heavy sleeper, Sable thought with slight disappointment. It was not very smart for him fall asleep out in the open. Her eyes shifted to another rock beside her feet.

The rock soared through the air and landed with a smack on top of the rogue's chest.

Jolting up, the rogue was confused to find the rock on top of his chest. He scowled groggily. "How in the world did this get here?" He shoved the rock off and stood up to stretch.

Now that the rogue was awake, Sable observed his countenance more carefully. His short, brownish-red hair matched his cold brown eyes that stood out from his rectangular, unshaved face. A pronounced mustache grew beneath his long nose, depicting him perfectly as a stereotypical rogue. She watched him take a long drink from his waterskin and eat what it appeared to be bread. After he finished, he picked up the cage and headed deeper into the Ajar Forest; Sable pursued him.

~~~

"I don't give a care if they ain't comin' back," Orson said bitterly as he spat against the ground. "The profit will all go to me." The rogue could care less about the female warrior that had robbed Tim; she contributed to slowing down his progress. The only reason she was held prisoner because Tim wanted to torture her.

Orson still regretted working with the Joseph and Tim, the two fools. He found them in town a few days ago associated with a fur trader. The fur trader mistakenly recommended him to work with them. If only he could go back in time and reverse his decision. Wherever they were now, lost, dead or alive, he did not care.

"And now, I'm gonna trap those beasts," Orson said out loud with a smirk, "once I find them."

"What beasts?" a voice asked curiously behind him.

Orson jerked around and faced a dark-haired young woman holding a bow with a quiver of arrows on her back. Dropping the cage, he immediately unsheathed his sword. "What do you want, girlie?" he asked hostilely. If she was going to get in his way, he was going to have to kill her.

"Are you looking for alacats?" Sable asked calmly.

Orson raised an eyebrow. "And what if I am…?"

"I know where they are."

Orson stared hard at her. "Why are you even so interested anyway?" he asked suspiciously. "Don't tell me you got hired too."

"Hired?" the ranger asked, trying to draw out more details.

Orson scowled. "Don't play stupid with me, girl. Cathan hired you to do the fur tradin' business too. No other way you coulda know what I'm searchin' for."

Cathan? Sable made note of herself to remember the name; the person sounded important. "You're right. I was hired by Cathan," Sable lied. "I just spotted an alacat cub hiding in a bush. It's probably still in there, but I need something to hold it." She pointed at the cage on the ground to emphasize the importance of it.

The rogue gasped. "Where?" he demanded, poking his blade at the ranger. "Bring me there, or I'll kill you."

Sable kicked the blade out of his hand, and it swung into a thorny blackberry bush. She flashed her dark brown eyes at the surprised rogue. "That's was very rude, mister. Now tell me—"

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the atmosphere.

Orson and Sable froze, and the cry howled out again echoing from the depths of the forest. There was no doubt it belonged to an alacat. Orson quickly glanced at his sword buried inside the blackberry bush. By the time he would carefully fish his blade out from the thorns, the girl would get to the alacat before he could. Scowling,the Orson abandoned his sword and grabbed his cage to run after the cry.

Sable fumbled with the arrow to her bow and tried to aim it at one of his legs. Missing, the arrow hit the ground instead. The ranger scowled and chased after the rogue.

I won't let you trap those cats, Sable's thoughts raged like a storm. Her brown eyes darkened, almost to the shade of black. I will protect them.