I haven't written in forever. Sorry. But I got into Assassin's Creed a few months back and... wanted to write something.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, only the storyline.

"There's nothing to be worried about," the boy reassured his friend, gesturing for him to follow along. His friend, although hesitant, stayed close behind him.

They wandered through the trees, farther and farther from their home. Around them, the wildlife bloomed: leaves swayed in the wind, casting dancing shadows along their skin; rabbits and foxes launched themselves away from danger; the wind blew past them, causing their clothing to billow out behind them.

"I don't think this is a good idea," the friend said nervously when at last they reached their destination. He eyed the looming cave, hyperaware of the silence – animals took care to avoid this place.

"We'll only be in there for a minute," said the boy, grinning at his friend. "And you've forgotten; I've been here before. There is nothing dangerous about it." He entered the dark and menacing jaws. His friend looked back in the direction from which they had come, then followed. Slowly and carefully, the two children crept through the cave.

It wasn't long before they reached the inner cavern. "See?" the boy spoke softly. "No bear here. Only food and-"

"Hush," his friend said with a frown. "Satahonhsatat." Listen.

A faint scratching noise from their left. Then, nothing. And then again, the scratching, this time joined by a soft sniff. The two boys looked at each other in horror as they realized what it was.
"Run!" they yelled simultaneously. They took off, flying back towards the entrance, just as the large animal lumbered angrily into view. They weaved through trees too high to climb, too skinny to hide behind. Unfortunately, one child was faster than the other.

A scream pierced the heart of the forest.

He never did speak after that.

"Kanen'tó:kon?" Ratonhnhaké:ton approached his friend, who, at that moment, was tracing figures in the sand near the riverbank.

He didn't answer. For many, many months, he hadn't spoken a single word. It was understandable before the attack, of course – he had spent a great many weeks recovering from his wounds. Ratonhnhaké:ton had spent hours every day by his side, waiting and watching and wallowing in his guilt.

"Please, speak to me," he begged softly, sitting next to Kanen'tó:kon. "You're going to have to some time."

Kanen'tó:kon gave a slight shrug. He stared into the sand, and continued his drawing. Ratonhnhaké:ton looked down at them curiously. "What are you drawing?"

No answer.

"It looks like… a fish?"

The finger stopped its mundane tracing. The owner looked up – not at Ratonhnhaké:ton, but at the river. His eyes were dull and tired. Slowly, he stood, turning away from him and making for the village.

Ratonhnhaké:ton watched him leave, still sitting. He pulled his knees up so that he could wrap his arms around them, and stared at the river silently. He sat frozen, unaware of the passing time, unaware of the sun gradually sinking below the horizon behind him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the river after many hours. "I didn't mean to get him hurt. I didn't know. I only wanted some time away from the village." He didn't want to lose his closest friend. He had lost so much in his life already, the worst being his mother. Images flashed through his mind.

Is that so bad?

The rising smoke.

That I only wanted that?

The village in flames.

I don't want to lose anybody.

His mother's voice calling his name, she herself covered in blistering burns and sheets of blood.

Will anything go right?

He tried so hard to help her, and in the end he hadn't been strong enough.

I'm not strong enough.

He raised his hand to his face, wiping a tear from his cheek. He hadn't realized that he had started crying. Quietly, he glanced around, hoping nobody had seen him. There was no one around. He was safe. He buried his face in his arms.

He only wept when he was alone. Other children in the village thought him strong and brave, because he never showed his true emotions around them. He had to be brave. If not him, then who?

He cried well into the night, beside the calm and gentle river. He cried for his mother, for his old village, for Kanen'tó:kon. He cried because his best friend had not spoken to him for months. He cried because he was the one who had gotten him hurt. He cried because he yearned for the companionship that he had taken for granted. He cried until something perched on his shoulder, and even then he kept his face in his arms protectively. The hand slid down his shoulder, across his back, and to his other shoulder. He could feel the warmth of a body slip down beside him; feel the arm tighten so that he was against their chest.

"Satahonhsatat," the stranger whispered, and suddenly Ratonhnhaké:ton knew who it was. He looked up, wiping his eyes. "What?"

"Just listen," Kanen'tó:kon murmured, nodding his chin towards the river.

He listened. He could hear the flowing water trickling by innocently, and the little occasional splashes. It was so quiet that he could even hear his best friend's heart beat. Suddenly, he knew. He heard life. He heard the wind singing, the trees humming, the earth breathing. He heard his mother's tender voice telling him everything was all right.

He heard the sound of peace. And, with moist eyes, he smiled.