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[Allan A'Dale]

Allan gave a small sigh of relief as she stopped and turned back. Devon wasn't exactly well-equipped to go on the run right now.

As she turned she unleashed a steady stream of invective that he would have been proud of.

At first he was confused, unsure of who and what Devon was talking about, but gradually threads of recollection sneaked in as drunken conversations swam back into focus.

"Him...you mean your master, right? The one that's taken over the farmhouse?"

Devon didn't reply, just sank into the long grass. He settled to the ground beside her, taking another drink of water as she spoke again.

"Well, I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," he replied dryly. "Plenty of better ways to die than at the end of a rope. Admit it, you don't mean it. You wouldn't give 'em the satisfaction."

He climbed to his feet again almost immediately. "Come on. If we're gonna sit down I want to do it where it's warm." He paused, and looked back. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want, but why can't you just go back? He didn't catch you red-handed did he?"

[Devon Creek]

Devon nodded at Allan. "Yeah, Morgan." She gave a deep sigh and laughed a little at Allan.

"I guess you're right. Too boring to die like that. I want to go out with a bang, you know?" she grinned up at him, feeling a bit better. He seemed like someone who was never really down about anything. And that was something she could right about now.

"Where to?" she asked as she rose from the grass. "If it's the camp, you sure Prayer boy or, uh..." she racked her brain from the other one's name, the one she'd threatened. "Won't Much mind?" she stopped, a thought coming to her. "And why would I care?" she asked herself out loud with a small laugh. But at his question, her smile dropped.

"No, I wasn't stealing or anything. Well, I did, but that's not why I can't go back. I don't know how to explain it, really. It involves me being an arse, to say the least." She fell in step beside him and rolled her eyes.

[Allan A'Dale]

Allan shook his head. "No, we're miles from the camp right now; I've been camping down over by the bank, catching fish. Got a nice little setup, actually."

It was surprisingly close; he'd forgotten how near they were until they stumbled across it. The tall reeds growing either side easily masked the small area he'd flattened down. Fumbling in his pack, he pulled out the bundle of kindling he'd carefully wrapped and put away earlier and threw it onto the charred remains of the fire he'd lit earlier. There were still a few sticks of firewood left over too.

Inside the package of dry grass and straw were his flints, somewhere. He rummaged for them and gestured at Devon with his free hand. "Sit down, if you want. I got another blanket in the big bag, if you can manage not to nick anything in the process of getting it out." He gave her a cheeky smirk and went back to looking for the stones.

[Devon Creek]

Devon laughed and shot him an equally cheeky grin. "I make no promises," she told him as she rummaged through the worn leather satchel. She found the blanket and quickly wrapped it around her shoulders. Other than a dagger, an extra waterskin and a few loose coins, the bag was filled with odds and ends. Probably worth something to someone, but they had little value to Devon.

"You haven't got much to nick, buddy. Oh, hey," she pulled out two dark stones and tossed them to Allan. "These what you're looking for?" Devon rolled back and looked up at the night sky. The inky blue canvas was dotted with stars and moon seemed to rest on the tree tops across the river. It was quiet too, nothing but the bubbling of the river and the occasional cry of an animal. Well, and the sounds of Allan getting the fire started.

"Need a little help?" she teased and crawled over to him and the fire. She sat back and regarded the camp. "Why are you out here?" She thought back to the Trip and slowly pieced back their conversation, thankful that it had been earlier in the night. She barely remembered going into the alley and anything that happened after was a complete loss to her.

"You're not on probation again, are you? Get caught selling secrets again?" She pulled open the blanket and waited for Allan to be done with the fire.

[Allan A'Dale]

"Yeah, I bet," he replied dryly, slightly distracted as he foraged in vain for the flints he was certain he'd shoved into his kindling stash. He couldn't help but grin as Devon carefully inspected the contents of his bag regardless. He was about to fling away the package of tinder in disgust when she managed to find exactly what he'd been after.

"Nice one," he said gratefully, managing to catch one and rummaging in the long grass for the other. Dumping out the remains of his kindling store on top of the still vaguely warm ash of his dinner fire, he set about it with his flints. He quite enjoyed building fires, if he was honest. There was something satisfying about the whole endeavour; it was an art in which he felt confident of his abilities. It still took him a while to persuade the kindling to catch light though; something that Devon didn't hesitate to tease him about.

"Oh yeah? And how do you propose to help? You gonna talk it into flame?" he asked between strikes of flint. "Maybe it'll combust under the sheer weight of your sarcasm, eh?"

Finally a spark actually caught; he watched it for a second, letting it grow larger of its own accord before attempting to blow on it and fan the flame. Devon asked another question and he laughed.

"No, nothin' like that. I'm earning points in Robin's good books actually, doing a covert supplies mission." He let that sink in for a second before admitting to the more sensible version. "I'm on a fishing trip. Djaq's always banging on about how meat all the time is bad for you, so I thought, why not fish? Surely that doesn't count as meat, right?"

The pile of dry fuel at his feet was properly alight now. He poked in a few larger twigs for good measure and shuffled backwards, taking the offered end of blanket thankfully and wrapping it across his shoulders. The night was slowly crystallising, becoming so still and silent it felt even colder, especially in contrast to the humidity of the day.

"So, you really think you'll go?" he asked softly; "and have you got any thoughts on where?"

He realised that despite the fact they'd only met a grand total of three times, he'd miss her when she was gone.

[Devon Creek]

Devon stuck her tongue out at Allan when he teased her about her sarcasm.

"Be thankful, it means I'm fluent to two languages. English and sarcasm. And you're one to talk," Devon laughed and pulled a face at the mention of fish. "That's not proper meat, not at all." Fish was never enough to keep her going, she was always hungry a few hours after eating it.

When Allan turned quiet and asked her where she'd go, she shrugged. "I was thinking south, away from where I'm wanted, you know? Northampton or Oxford I think. I've heard that Oxford's underground is full of little passageways that lead all over the shire. Perfect for a quick getaway." She paused and sighed deeply. "I don't want to go really. I mean I've only been here for a few days, but I've done alright. Company's not half bad, either." She nudged him playfully in the ribs, which brought back some blurry memories of the two of them near the Trip. Slowly but surely that night was coming back to her.

[Allan A'Dale]

Devon hit him right in the ticklish spot and he fairly squealed as he flinched away and grabbed for her wrist. Very firmly, and with a lopsided smirk he returned it to her lap and gave her a poke for good measure.

"Supposed to be warmer the further south you get, I heard. Might be nice. Dunno much about Northampton, but Oxford's an alright enough place. A lot of monks, for some reason, but they mostly keep themselves to themselves, and most of 'em are pretty gullible, too. But if you don't really want to leave, why go? Lay low for a bit and you'll probably be alright. Let face it, most nobles don't pay enough attention to the likes of us to remember who's served 'em well and who's robbed 'em. Give it six months and he probably wouldn't notice you if you passed him in the street."

He leaned against her slightly, watching the flickering light of the fire draw shapes with the shadows as it wavered and swelled, and slipped an arm across her shoulders.

[Devon Creek]

Devon snorted loudly when Allan squealed, and informed him between giggles that she didn't know a grown man could make that sound. However, when he poked her, she fared only slightly better. She jumped as if someone had dumped ice water on her and made a sound that caused the birds nearby to flutter away in fear.

When Allan said to just lay low, she shook her head and gave a little harsh laugh. "I don't he'll forget me any time soon." She wrapped an arm around Allan's waist and shuffled into a more comfortable position. He was still leaning on her, but now she was shifted so her head sat just on his chest. Looking up at him, she blew the breath out of her cheeks.

"See, he had a bit of a nightmare of sort, from the Crusades, you know. And when he told me about it, he made it seem like he was the only person that knew about suffering. So I told him he didn't know anything about hell on Earth and I told him about," she stopped, checking herself. "Well, things. And here's the kicker," she said shortly with a glare at the sky. "He was being nothing but nice about it and I up and ran from him. 'Cause he was being humane. No one's been like that to me, not my family, no one. And I didn't know what to do, so I ran. Like I always do." She looked determinedly away from Allan, instead focusing on the dancing fire. "I can't go back because he knows. He knows what I've done and been through and all he's ever going to see in me now is that weakness. And I'm not weak, I've never been weak." She said more to herself than Allan. She swore again and curled up closer to Allan, shaking her head.

[Allan A'Dale]

He slipped the fingers of his free hand into the short tufts of her hair and ran his fingers lightly over her head affectionately as she spoke. It was an awkward situation, he had to admit, although he had a feeling that once Devon had slept on it, it'd seem like less of a catastrophe.

"Yeah, alright, it's a bit of a cock up, I'll give you that," he replied, twisting a lock of her hair between his fingers idly as he spoke. He knew about Crusader nightmares second hand; Robin suffered from them by turns and he'd been woken by them once or twice. It wasn't the most soothing experience. "But I think, honestly, that he's not gonna think you're weak. I mean, he's the one that has the nightmares, not you. You know what he's suffered, right? And you don't think he's weak. If anything, he should know better than anyone how much it takes to stay sane once you've been through something like that."

It wasn't a lie, either. All of the outlaws had their painful experiences, stowed away and kept hidden. He well knew that most people on the wrong side of the law had to harden themselves against the world; steel themselves against their inner demons. Those that lasted more than a year had to have mental fortitude.

[Devon Creek]

When Allan's hand worked its way into Devon's hair, a shiver went down her spine. Not one of the pleasant ones though. An image flashed into her mind; a face looming over hers, hands holding down her arms, others grabbing at her hair, keeping her in place. She shook it away, laughing tightly when he told her it was a cock up. But when he held one of her locks, another flash came, this one moments after the first. The face grinned now, echoed in her arms, writs and ankles where she was being held. With a shudder she pulled away from Allan, wrapping her own arms around herself. She shivered, but not because of the cold.

"So, if I told you what happened, everything, every little detail, you would still see as you saw me before, no difference?" She looked at him not harshly, but determined to get an answer. "And that was the Crusades, not some dirty little dungeon cell. People are expected to come back from war as different people. But not the criminals from a dungeon. Nope, we should all just come exactly the way we were. Or reformed," she gave a bitter laugh at the sentiment of changing.

[Allan A'Dale]

Devon pulled away from him sharply and he very carefully didn't move. He could tell that whatever it was was uppermost in her mind; she clearly still struggled with it now. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, knowing when not to push it, and took the opportunity to poke at the fire, adding another few sticks before it burned down too low. When she'd spoken, he pulled a face. He wasn't much of a philosopher; didn't even know what the word meant but he had strong views on the subject regardless.

"Way I see it," he began, stabbing a skinny twig again and again into the ground, watching it bend and splinter against the firm ground; "what happened always had happened since I known you. So it's always been a part of you, right? A fact. Just that I didn't know it." He stopped and pondered for a while, racking his brains for a way to explain it better. He knew his sentences were beginning to go in circles.

"Liiiiiike, oh, I dunno, if you had a tattoo of a cow on your arse." Probably inappropriate given the serious circumstances, but he felt he had to break the tension somehow. "It doesn't make any difference to the person you are; the way you think, the way you act an' all that; it was already there when I met you. I don't know any different. Not that I'm saying that I wouldn't care, or that it doesn't matter to me; just that...stuff that happens in our past changes us, for better or for worse. The best you can do is not let it break you. If you can manage that much, then you're doing all right. I don't go in much for pity. I'm a practical sort of person, you know? What is, is and feeling sorry isn't gonna help." He realised he was properly rambling now, and cleared his throat. "If you told me what happened I wouldn't look at you exactly the same, cos I'd understand a little bit more of what goes on up there-" he pointed at her head, "-but my heart's not gonna start bleeding for you. And it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference to the way I treat you. You're not gonna get a soft touch off me. But yeah, I know what you mean. People assume it's our own fault for breaking the law, for getting caught; whatever happens in the cells is just part of the punishment, and we got to accept it. They assume we ain't got souls, that once you're on the wrong side you don't have feelings any more."

Suddenly furious himself, he flung the stick into the heart of the flames with as much force as he could muster. Suddenly he wanted to get drunk again. He pulled over his satchel and fished around inside for the other waterskin. There'd been a bottle of wine passed around the fire the night before, declared by popular vote not suitable for man or beast, but loath to waste things as he was, he'd decanted it in case of emergency. There wasn't a huge amount, and between two of them it would barely take the edge off, but it was better than nothing.

[Devon Creek]

Devon thought through what he'd said, giving a laugh at his example. And while she could see it applying to Allan, she didn't think Morgan would see it the same way.

But it was part of who she was, and if she was going to work for Morgan, he would have to accept who she was. But he'll see you as weak, she fought back.

"-but my heart's not gonna start bleeding for you." He said, and Devon sighed happily. Finally, someone normal. She grinned at him, happy to find someone she draw from. That was what she needed now, to not care about Morgan or herself. She sat back near him, but didn't interrupt his speech. A lot of what he said made sense, and a few moments ago had been policies she'd lived with her entire life. Then Morgan made her break them, so she was bringing them back. She nodded at him when he spoke of what people thought of criminals.

"Like we had a choice, which most of us don't," she said, tossing a stick into the flames. When Allan pulled out a wineskin, she grinned. This was getting familiar, she thought. It was nice to see someone who appreciated wine's effects as much as she did. Devon grinned at him, and sighed. There was a lot to think about that she didn't want to think about.

So she didn't. Instead she gave Allan a wink and held her hand out. "Now, I know you aren't going to leave me here sober," she much rather get drunk and forget this whole night.

[Allan A'Dale]

Allan grinned back, trying to forget his momentary rage. That was generally why he tried not to dwell on things; start talking about all the ways the world's wronged you and suddenly you're reliving it all over again.

"I warn you now," he said, "it's probably the worst wine in the shire. Robin didn't think it fit to give away, which tells you something, because he gives everything away."

He took a swig and grimaced, handing it over. "Why is it whenever I drink with you the booze always tastes like something that dribbled off an alchemist's workbench?" he lamented plaintively.

[Devon Creek]

"Oh, you know me, I only attract the best," she winked at him then took a long swig, swearing at the taste. "That is really bad, Allan. Then she sneered. "Does he really give everything away? Like I said before, you don't get a camp like that with just a warm, fuzzy feeling, do ya?" She passed the bottle back to him and sighed. This could end up being an alright night.

[Allan A'Dale]

He grinned as she spoke. Little charmer that she was, he couldn't really help it. "I know, right?" he said in agreement as she decried the quality of his booze.

"Yep, all of it," he replied to her question, knowing as he said it how she'd probably feel about the idea. "Lock, stock and barrel; every penny gets handed back out. Every penny that the gang nicks, anyway. I think Robin's kind of made his peace with me having a little personal fund, as long as it doesn't come from a too disreputable source, and I ain't taking from those we're supposed to be helping. The camp got built by Will; he's a carpenter and so was his dad. Dan was good, but Will's halfway to genius if I'm being honest. We got that camp for free. If it hadn't been, we'd probably still be sleeping in caves and moving our home once a week." He thought for a second, twisting the bottle between his fingers. "I don't s'pose you've met Will. He was one of us...still is, I suppose, but he's got a wife and a baby now. Can't go out gallivanting with the rest of us whenever he wants any more."

He'd barely seen Will since he'd come back from the Holy Land, Allan realised. For someone who used to be his closest friend, they were drifting a long way apart. And it had been a good few months, too. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret at that, but it wasn't to be helped now.