[center][b]1900 hours[/b][/center]

With a sudden burst of energy, Flake shot out of the seductively comfortable chair, breaking free from the hypnotism of the fire, and grabbed his spear. After recovering from the light-headedness, he made his way over to the opening to the basement, then jumped down without a thought. Once he reached the basement floor, he walked over to the weapons rack and examined the weapons once again.

The bounty hunter practiced a few techniques with each individual weapon, being careful to avoid hitting or stepping on any of the furniture. After practicing with each melee weapon, he mentally separated out the unworkable weapons from those which he might appreciate using as secondary weapons. After staring at the weapons for a full ten-minute interval, he concluded that his first observation was inadequate. All of the light weapons were exact copies of the ones which the guards used, standard issue with a few modifications which were likely the result of an over-excited blacksmith. The heavy weapons, on the other hand were original, possibly the favorites used by Drake in the past.

The ranged weapons were the same, although to a lesser degree. The heavy ranged weapons were all castle guard varieties, such as a heavy crossbow with metal support. Even the throwing knives were standard issue, except Flake only felt that the castle guard varieties would be sufficient for use. After thinking carefully about the different opportunities he would get to use the weapons, Flake grabbed one of the sacks of throwing knives and tied it to the belt of his pants, under his robe. [i]I’ll try them out later on,[/i] he thought, taking the spear back off of the weapon rack.

Upon rising back up the stairs, he noticed that the fire was starting to die down. In the hopes that he would not have to start a fire again if he fed it some logs and watched it return to life. The bounty hunter looked around the room once more, his hunger reminding him of Raine and the complete lack of sewing materials in the house. With a dissatisfied frown, he sat back in the chair in front of the fire and waited a few minutes, his impatience slowly mounting within him.

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[center][b]2000 hours[/b][/center]

A few minutes later, Flake shot out of his chair at the sound of the door and, upon recognizing the trespasser, walked over to her and lifted a few deer pieces from her back. He was about to comment about how she should have brought the entire carcass back, but determined that she was likely too weak to drag it all the way back to the cabin.

Flake managed to listen to Raine, despite the sound of his hunger pains, but only managed to respond by saying, “go ahead,” and heading back over to the chair by the fire. He watched Raine out of the corner of his eye, so that he could comment if she did anything interesting, but otherwise watched the fire to pass the time. [i]I wonder how an assassin learned to cook,[/i] he thought, quickly looking over to watch her search for cooking items in the drawers before returning to his biding occupation.