AN: I still explain too much. On the up side, I got rid of that big paragraph that explained what Krista looks like. Would you believe that it had 132 words?

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone except Krista and towns. D, Hand, and the world belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi.


Resurrection and Recall

Chapter 1: What a Quaint Little Meeting


October 27, 13,012

Upon a steep hill, animals scurried for hiding places, some literally kicking other animals out of their homes. By the time a man came into view upon a black steed, nary a sound could be heard. Not an animal to be seen. The cloak he wore draped over the horse's flanks, billowing slightly in the warm breeze. The man rode away from the evening sun, blatantly ignoring a gruff, disembodied voice.

"Hello; will you say something? I know that I am annoying, but haven't I been helpful as well? Come on, you need to rest. You've been traveling for five days straight. The only time you rested was standing up and listening to that mayor just a few hours ago, and since then, you have been looking for her tracks," the voice said desperately. It gave out a huff of agitation when the rider did not respond. "Or maybe you would like to have a dirt nap. Those are always fun when you are incapable of digging a hole for yourself."

With a brief clutch of his hand, the man pulled down the scarf covering his face. He glanced about the area as the horse navigated around trees. Spotting nothing out of the ordinary, he lightly pat the horse on the neck, silently urging him on.

True to the voice's words, the man had been tracking his target for the past few hours. While the mayor claimed a woman had been terrorizing the town, the inhabitants did not appear terrorized in the least. If anything, they only appeared cautious. He would oblige the man and find this terror.


Up in a tall tree a girl slept, barely breathing, arms and legs dangling limply off the thick branch. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as the sound of hoof beats faintly reached her ears, lime orbs still clouded with sleep. As she made to move her blood colored hair from her view, her body ached, protesting the small movement. A voice quietly threatened her, "Don't you dare put anymore of this junk on me. If something so much as pokes me, I swear that you will pay!" She ignored the tiny, imaginary voice, stretching with a low moan.

Remembering something disturbed her rest, she glanced in the direction that the rhythmical beats originated, pushing herself up as each passing second increased her fear of what or whom it was coming over the hill. "That's all I need right now is for those people to chase me around with rifles. Ka-blam!" She lurched backwards while acting out the part of shooting a rifle in spastic movements, barely managing to catch herself. When she clawed her way up onto the branch again, she glanced down to the ground. 'That would have been a long fall.'

Movement captured her attention, eyes snapping up in time to watch the rider trot down the hill, cloaked in shadows. For but a moment, sunlight captured his face, allowing her a fleeting glance at his features. 'Hmm, he's rather beautiful. Men aren't supposed to be beautiful, are they? Maybe he's just extraordinarily handsome.' Her eyes skimmed across him, once more. 'I don't see a weap- oh my God, that is a huge sword! He could chop me up and eat me and all the while say how I taste like human chicken!' She laughed, amused by herself."Human chicken? Where'd that come from? Oh, God. I'm paranoid. Or maybe I have fever?"

A quick pat to her stomach checking for fever and she laughed all the more. "Oh, I do have some. But that's okay! I'm hot! Tsssshhhh…" Despite her delirium, all laughter ceased when she realized just how close the rider was, the girl springing to her feet. "Maybe he didn't hear me…"

The man pulled his horse to a stop near the tree in which the girl resided. With his head turning slightly so he might look clearly in both directions, his eyes scanned the trees on both sides carefully. His gaze settled on one tree in particular after leaves fell and there was a light gasp. Never mind the fact that he heard the girl babbling to herself. Never mind she had the coordination of a toddler. Gracefully dismounting the horse with a small flourish of his cloak, he came to stand at the base of the tree, peering up through the foliage. Her panicked breathing thrummed in his ears.

"W-what do you w-want?" stuttered the girl as she stumbled further away, boots slipping over the slick bark. The man made no suggestions of answering any time soon; his face was passive. Fear crept into her small frame, limbs trembling. 'His aura: it's so dark. I don't think I have ever felt one so…inhuman,' she thought as the man treaded about the base of the tree, following her path as she climbed. Hoping that he would give an answer, she repeated her previous question, stumbling over the words. Still, no answer came forth.

A queer noise filled the air; not one of animals or insects. Nay, this noise – so quick and quiet she questioned the origin – sent chills down her spine, something akin to scratching and clacking against bark. In the same instant, the man appeared before her on a neighboring branch, nary a hair misplaced from the sudden ascent, cloak quivering about his legs. Bits of bark trickled from his right hand. To say she was surprised was an understatement. As coal orbs caught her gaze, her body locked up. To her, it felt as though his eyes were piercing her very soul, cleaving it open and laying it bare for him to read. She realized she was falling only after the first branch splintered beneath her back, breath forced from her lungs.

Tree limbs cracked as the girl came crashing down; some not breaking, but they popped her off like a rag doll. Her body lurched to a brief stop as her left leg slipped between a pair of limbs, a stomach-churning snap filling the air before the limbs gave way. Landing with a dull thud on her stomach, leaves and branches trailing after her, a guttural groan tore through her bared teeth. Why of all things did she climb higher into the giant tree? She turned over, clutching her leg with a grimace twisting her face, her breathing labored. Never did she realize that the man had been at ground level waiting for her to finish falling for a while, too focused on not vomiting and adding insult to injury.

"What is your problem, buddy?! You could have really made me huuuu-…" Sitting there on the ground, she felt insignificant with the strange man looming above her. Red flags flapped at her instincts wildly, urging her to do anything to get away from him. It dawned on her that he could very well be a professional Hunter sent to kill her.

Why had he not tried yet? Was it a scare tactic? Was she not worth his time? Or was it all a farce?

Standing with some difficulty and sickening cracks from her noticeably broken leg, she clapped her hands together and gave a small bow. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mister Dark-and-Gruesome. I think I will take my leave now." With those parting words, she ran like the dickens in the opposite direction from which the man stood, dust clouding the air.

The man, watching the young girl run as though demons were snapping their teeth at her heels, mounted his black steed. The scratchy voice came forth instantly. "You don't think that this is the girl that guy wanted us to get rid of, do you? She didn't even try to fight you. She just ran. I know she fits the description and all, but still." The voice sounded disgusted. Perhaps it was expecting some show. A pause filled the air, the man lightly tapping his heels into the horse's flanks. "Hey! You aren't seriously going after her are you? There's no need. Besides, it's nearly dark. What if darkness is her strength?!"

"We were charged to 'get rid of the girl and see to it that she does not return to the town'. I intend to do so." The man's voice was cold and monotonous in tones, laced with rust in a way. Unbeknownst to the disembodied voice, the hunter already sized up the girl. Many things could accurately describe the girl; weary, sick, scared, but threatening was not one. A terror? To someone other than herself, unlikely. An almost ridiculous notion.

Up ahead of him, the girl was still running, left leg dragging lamely but still managing to aid in her trot, if only barely. They came upon the center of town, having not been far off from the outskirts as it was. Unsurprisingly, not many people loitered in the streets as of that moment, having heard the commotion in the distance and inherently knowing it included the girl. The man felt a shift in the girl's aura. For a moment, he wondered if the brash voice might receive its show, the girl twisting about on her heel. She charged, a black club in hand.

The horse reared, upset by the sharp pull on the reins as the man drew the long sword from the sheath upon his back. With a quiet ring, the blade came free. She leapt at him, squealing, as she swung out her arm, eyes open wide in terror. The two weapons clashed. The force dislodged him from the saddle. His feet skid across the ground briefly, coming to a halt as if nothing happened.

A stifled retch broke the sudden quiet and he turned to watch the girl's silhouette jogging down a dark alley. Like the wind he moved, lifting her from the ground by the front of her tattered shirt, shoving her against the brick wall. He leveled the sword with her chest, pressing the honed tip into the flesh above her rapidly beating heart. "Leave this area or be killed," the man said succinctly. "That's your choice."

The girl thrashed wildly in his hold, unable to do more than pull and punch at his arm. "Jeez, I mind my own business and end up getting hunted by others, and for what? What is your problem? Are you just a bunch of mindless killers?" She briefly wondered if she touched a sore spot or not answering him made him stress his ultimatum, for he pressed the tip of the blade into her chest with a force that landed on the side of threatening. It was more probable to go with the latter of the choices. "I dare you," she snarled, spitting in his face. The tip easily entered her flesh, blood gushing around the blade. She writhed, the fight draining from her with each shuddering breath, pain gripping her with each beat of her heart. "Okay. I'll leave."

Falling into a heap when the man released her, she clutched at the piercing in her chest, crimson staining her hands. The man's billowing coat was all she saw as he left her there to mount the horse patiently waiting at the end of the alley. "Why didn't you just kill me? I told the others that came for me that I would leave town and not come back. Yet, they still tried," she breathed, not believing he would hear. Any normal person would not have. "Heh, maybe I'll die from this?" She staggered to her feet and stumbled from the alley, her eyes trailing after the black form.

With a shuddering breath, she started after him, vision dimming with the strain. Black spotted what vision she had. Each movement felt progressively more sluggish and leaden. 'I am dying.' She whimpered, clutching her chest all the more as her heart began to stutter, leaving her breathless.

The hooves drummed on the ground as the rider slowly went through the town. He was acutely aware of the girl closely following. Of course, he knew why she was following him; the other villagers would not be honest or kind for what she wanted, and that was not saying that he would be. There was a loud thump as though the girl had fallen before a slight scuffling noise, but he paid no mind to it. Instead, he kept the horse at its steady pace through town.

By the time he had cleared the town, there were definite signs that the girl was still following him, bones grinding and small whimpers. Only when there was a gentle tug at his coat did he glance down at the girl standing next to him, bloodied hand tightly gripping the worn material, pulling the steed to a stop.

The girl's face was pale, deathly pale, paler than she had been previously. Releasing the hold on the coat, she gave a sheepish smile up at the man, swaying like a drunkard. "Do you know… of any doctors that would actually take me in?" she slurred, voice barely above a whisper. Receiving no recognition, she nodded her head slightly, lurching with the small movement. "You may have 'spared' me, but you are heartless." With one last spiteful look, she smacked the rump of the horse as she dropped face first to the hard ground.

There was a long, hard laugh from around the vicinity of the man's left hand as the hunter reined the horse to a stop from its shock at the smack. "Wow! How many women do you see and/or meet that get mad at you instead of melting with desire? It's a nice change. Where did she get the heartless part, though? I think you have a heart. It's just buried under centuries of dust and stone." There was a long pause. "Perhaps, since she is here, you can refuel."

Averting his gaze from the girl unconscious on the ground, the man stared at his left hand. While flipping that very hand over, the flesh contorted to form a leering face in the palm. The man seemed completely unfazed by the fact that there was a countenanced carbuncle residing within. Even as the thing opened beady eyes to stare at him, his features were set like stone.

"Come on," coaxed the queer creature, the tiny mouth set in a devious smile. "She's already bleeding out. Just drain her dry and don't worry about it. You know you want to. I can tell!" The grin grew slightly wider after the thing received a sharp glare. "I'm just saying that it would help you. Who knows? Maybe she'll taste as sweet as she smells…under the other smells."

There was a long pause as the man dismounted the horse and kneeled beside the girl. A pale hand reached out, turning her head from side to side. "She's clean," he stated. "How is she withstanding her injuries? I nicked her heart." A hoarse snicker came to his attention.

"Oh, you could tell? Well, not like it matters much. She won't live much longer at this rate. At least, not through the night."

He quietly hummed, briefly deliberating before scooping up the limp girl. Loud protests came from his hand. After he tightly clenched it, the objections still came, cutting through the girl and fabric. "What are you doing?! I didn't say to take her with us! She may be a psychopath that could wake up and mangle us!" There was a loud huff. "Why?"

"Curious," the man stated quietly, easily hefting the girl into the saddle of the horse. As his leg was swinging over, she gave a low groan. Lidded eyes stared dully up at him. With a snap of the reins, they were off, his hold balancing her in the saddle.

"Oh sure, first you stab me and now…where are you taking me?" There was no reply. "I want down," she snapped while wiggling within his grip, though his hold did not lessen. Anger flushed her cheeks. Her fist lashed out, catching him in the nose with a loud crunch.

Blood gushed from each nostril, running down his face. Unfazed by the strike, he noticed that the girl's gaze settled on the dripping blood. With a steady hand, he reset the broken nose and the bleeding almost immediately ceased. Wiping away the blood, he asked, "Are you Human?" He received a sharp look before a smile came forth. There was no answer. Instead, she closed her eyes and appeared asleep once more. It was odd that someone could go from being self-protective to not caring so quickly.

"Maybe she's a little off kilter. What do you think?" the thing asked. There was no answer. "Oh, come on, Stud; it's not every day that you go around being Mr. Hero 'The Man Who Saves Every Damsel in Distress.' Hey, I think that has a catchy tune to it. Mr. Hero! Mr. HERO! MR. HE—"

The man slammed the poor creature's face into a passing tree to cut the countenanced carbuncle's rant short. The slow trot continued on in thankful silence, save for the sound of hooves beating relentlessly on the ground. The man had one destination set in mind, a couple hours ride at their current pace.

The moon rose high into the sky, lighting the surroundings. The wind cooled, moaning through the trees. The horse and girl shuddered at the sudden change. Ever so often, he would glance down at the girl, ensuring his hand slowed her bleeding. Otherwise, his eyes stayed focused on the path through the forest they had entered. Why on Earth had he picked her up? That very question might have plagued him, but if only for a short while.

A large cliff came into view as true night settled. In the side of the cliff was an opening, somewhat like a small cave. Navigating the horse up a narrow path, he quickly led the horse inside the mouth of the opening. Nary had a noise left the girl as he dismounted with her in hand, the hunter pausing only long enough to form a makeshift pallet upon the ground.

With the girl resting upon the pallet, he set about removing a lantern and medical kit from the saddlebags. Light filled the area, revealing just how pale she was. Blood stained her tattered shirt, a stark contrast to her skin.

With quick movements, he removed the girl's shirt, unlatched the armor about her upper torso, and pushed it to the side. The scent of infection rose from the large wound that immediately came into view. Such an angry red and purple, weeping; the wound looked untreated. Worse than that, it appeared to have reopened multiple times, pus seeping through the more fresh tears. In short, most might cringe at the wound.

The man bats not one eye. With measured movements, he stitched and bandaged her chest piercing and pulled out a small bottle of peroxide. He poured the peroxide over the grisly side wound. When the foam died, he repeated the process, finally wrapping it with an antibiotic and salve-soaked cloth.

Still, the stench of infection did not leave. His eyes roamed briefly over her figure, taking in the lingering injuries. One might think this girl should be dead. Any normal Human would be. With needle and peroxide in hand, the man began treating the more severe wounds.

By the time he finished, fragments of arrows and the occasional bullet rest beside him, cradled within soiled rags. He looked over her legs, rolling up the legging of her breeches. After working the riding boot off her leg, he let her lie. If he reset her leg with her unconscious, he knew she might vomit and aspirate.

Everything about her seemed Human enough except for the fact that she was still alive with so many wounds. Her aura and her speed where that of any other person's. The man's curiosity increased. Why not look into her memories to see if they told her story?

A lurid light coursed through his eyes as he placed his left hand upon her head. Images flashed before his eyes from recent memories to the ones from earlier in her life. The girl was running, leaping from rooftop to rooftop away from people bearing guns, a ball of plasma hitting her shoulder. She lurched forward, slapping into the tiled roof with a grunt as broken shingles fell to the street below. Trembling hands slipped and bled on broken tiles as she scrambled up.

She was sitting in a bare classroom, listening to a kindly teacher with rapt attention as she cautioned the few students left about kidnappings. Her eyes turned about the room. Ten labeled desks lie empty. Looking over the five remaining people in the room, she nodded silently to herself. Three days, and she would leave.

She was outside, walking past a group of older teens when they began throwing large, sharp rocks at her, some managing to cut her. Garbled insults streamed from their mouths. She wept, not understanding why she was a freak when she barely remembered her own name.

Many memories flitted across his vision. Whether he saw her being hunted, ridiculed, or shot at, he noticed one thing in common with each passing memory; she did nothing more than shove people away by hitting them or run.

Finally reaching deeper into her memories, such as from when she was a child, he saw nothing at first. After a long while, two scenes flickered up, but just for a fraction of a second. Screams and laughter erupted into one bloody picture of a gore filled home. The second, a soft-spoken woman urging a frail body into a dark space. The vision faded, and with a quiet grunt, the man snapped back.

Pain gripped him, much like an oncoming migraine. His left arm seized, twitching almost uncontrollably. As fast as it came, the anomaly left.

A quiet huff left tiny lips as the voice muttered, "Those two were hard to get." The countenanced carbuncle paused, thinking about what it should say went wrong. "A memory blocker, really. I think she has amnesia, or someone forcibly blocked her memories. And it didn't tell us what you wanted." The hand peered at the girl, scrutinizing her. "There is something weird about her past that I don't like, so just leave her alone now before you get too deep." In a way, the creature was right. "Come on, get up! Ditch her!"

The girl suddenly moaned, parting her eyes to look upon unfamiliar surroundings. Glancing around the cave, she spotted the lantern and the man. At the sight of him, she thrashed, skittering to the far wall. A quiet command had her screeching to a halt, if not reluctantly. At his small gesture, she crawled to him. The last thing she could remember as he grabbed her leg was calling him heartless. 'After that, how come I am with him?' she questioned herself, watching him uneasily. "Okay Freaky, why am I with you?" she snapped, not meaning for the question to come out. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she could feel him train his dark eyes upon her. Although, he did nothing more than continue feeling of the broken appendage.

"Hey, who are you to call him Freaky, Schizoid?!"

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. After a moment of silence, she passed the scratchy voice for a figment of her imagination. She was sure blood loss was a current issue. With a sigh, she quietly and uneasily watched the man press upon her leg.

"You never answered me," he spoke out, startling her. "Are you a Human?"

"How can I answer you if that's the first time you've asked? Besides, if I'm not a Human, am I a dog? Oh yeah! Bark, ruff, arff, growl. What am I next; a kitty?" she replied sarcastically.

"But I did ask you…on the way here." If he realized that she was trying to mock him, he did not show it by voice or face.

This only confused her. Her mind was as empty as a balloon, nothing but air to replace the void between passing out and then. "I must have been talking in my sleep. But really, that was a bad question to ask. Is there any other race besides Human that I could be?" There was no reply. She watched his hands carefully move up her leg, pressing and feeling.

Some things in life were just plain weird. People going around hunting down others seemed so. Then, when the person who had stabbed you was currently fixing your leg, it seemed ridiculous. As a breeze drifted across her torso, she glanced down only to see her loose armor and undergarments. "Where is my shirt?!" she screamed aloud, jerking her leg free from the strange man to push herself away. 'I knew it! He's just fixing me up a bit so he can do man things to me!' Slapping her arms across her chest, she hunched over. There was no answer to her question the whole time. "I'm serious! Where is my bloody shirt?"

The stained shirt smacked her face. As she went to adjust the armor and slip on the shirt, she noticed the numerous stitches across her in places where there had been wounds and that gauze effectively patched her side injury, circling around her entire abdomen tightly. With a confused glance, she trained her eyes on the man that sat calmly next to the lantern, watching her from beneath the large travelers' hat. 'Or maybe he was just being nice.'

"Is there a reason why you've been staying in town only at night?" he asked, locking his eyes with hers without turning fully towards her. He shifted, if only barely, to prop his elbow on his knee.

"Simple really; I felt safer with many people around. As a matter of fact, this is the first time I haven't felt watched since I remember being at the orphanage."

"Do you remember anything from before the orphanage?"

"No, not really; but hey, memory fades over time. And if I was sent to that place, I am pretty sure I don't want to remember why I am parentless." She faltered, realizing she was saying things she did not want to. At that, she cast her eyes to the ground.

"Why did you doctor me up?" That was not exactly what she wanted to ask, but it was better than nothing. There was no answer, though. 'Fine; besides, he looks like he has the knowhow.' "Um, can you help me with something, such as…town wide disappearances?" He turned to look at her more directly. "Since everyone seems to know something I don't, I thought you might be able to figure everything out. I'll even pay you to come with me to see if you can help." For a long while, there was nothing said. She began to wonder if he had actually heard her.

"What's your name?" he asked, never answering her question. From his distance, he could easily see the confused look cross her features.

"Is that a yes or no?"

"I need a name to go with a client."

"My name's Krista, nothing more," she replied somewhat joyfully, slowly inching her way to the man while not putting any pressure upon her left leg. On the outside, she was calm, but on the inside, she was shouting a victory cheer. When she was close enough, her first instinct was to shake his hand, but her second instinct told her to retract her hand and not be a fool. "Can you tell me your name now?" She thought he might not answer when he grabbed her leg and began pressing upon the bone, once more.

"D," he finally stated, resting her foot on his lap. Angry red, bulging skin glared back, the faintest hint of bloody bone peeking through. As he lightly pushed on the area, he noticed that she did not flinch or grimace. One break made it easier to set, but there were multiple. "Stay still," he ordered, watching her stiffen. In one fluid movement, he stretched out her leg and snapped the protruding bone down.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, Krista retched, bile leaking between her fingers. She writhed, cursing between gags as D continued resetting her leg. She was sure she kicked him at some point, but in too much agony to truly care. "So, how old are you? Though it's not like you need to answer," Krista quickly said, willing to try anything to distract herself. "But, I'm seventeen. I'll be eighteen October 31. But again it doesn't really matter!" A laugh that spoke of hysteria bubbled past her lips before another retch interrupted the flow, tears streaming down her face. More laughter filled the air as she gasped for breath. "And, thank you for…you know," she stated, sweeping a hand across her form at the end, finally calming once D began wrapping her leg.

She turned her head, truly desiring to see the man behind the mask if only through his eyes, to see if he was even remotely annoyed with her. When she saw them, she only saw an emotionless void with age and horrors unknown to her. She knew what her eyes held; innocence, naiveté. She came back to reality as D blew out the lantern and stood.

"Go to sleep. We can talk more in the morning if you want," he said, walking to the opposite side of the cave. As he sat down with his back against the rock wall, he watched her carefully lie down and doze off. Closing his eyes, he drifted, briefly wondering what he was getting into.

October 28, 13,012

The time was around 5 Morning; that much she knew as she awoke. Standing with a quiet yawn, Krista shambled over to the edge of the cliff, flopping down to let her legs dangle limply. As she stared up at the moon, she could not help but wonder what made D seem so inhuman, so unearthly. By her standards, no normal Human could be stoic, have an aura like his, and be strange all at the same time. It was then that she became aware of his eerie aura. Sure, to her it was not very strong at that given moment, but it was enough to give her chill bumps. She tilted her head back, staring up at the intimidating man. 'He's so quiet. I didn't even hear him.'

"What is the town?" he asked, sitting down with his legs crossed a few feet from her. He heard the name Puregon but the name did not sound familiar. No matter; she could tell him how to get there. Although, their first stop would be in the closest town. Supplies were needed. As he turned to look at her, the first thing that caught his eye was the school-girl-crush smile she was giving him. It was not unusual, but still. "Can you ride?" he asked, dismissing the smile as he tilted his head in the direction of the steed lying on the ground.

"I suppose," she replied, a thoughtful look crossing her features. "The first and last time I rode I fell off head first. But, I would rather walk for a while if it would be all right with you. Gotta make sure I can go around on my leg without it giving out."

Good enough, but he did not bother to ask if she could defend herself; that much was obvious if she could throw him off his horse with a single swing. There were still the questions of what her weapon truly was and how often she ate. If she were the same as some teens, he would need more food than normal, much more. "What is your weapon?" Metal scraping against metal filled the quiet before she thrust a sharp, abnormally long dagger before his face. He grabbed the tip, appreciating the balance and silver edges.

After she received her dagger, Krista pushed it and a match together until there was a faint click, working as a whacking stick. At that moment, she was concentrating only on figuring out how to get to Puregon from where they were. 'I curse my stupidity,' she thought to herself, lightly hitting her head as though the action would knock the directions to Puregon into place. "Oh, and if you were wondering, I don't eat all that often. I eat a few times a week. I seem to have lost my appetite since leaving the orphanage." She laughed. "So it's not like you have to worry about stopping all that often for me to nom. And… I am sorry that I called you Freaky and Mr. Dark-and-Gruesome and heartless and for being sarcastic."

"You bet you're sorry! You're lucky he doesn't go all fangs on your sorry—"

There the voice was again. She pondered if she was losing her mind, which she thought she lost long ago, or if she was delusional. Although, this time Krista noticed D clenching his left hand, nails cutting into his flesh.

As her thoughts jumped back to earlier, she pulled out a small bag, holding it suspended in front of D. "Like I said, I'll pay you to come with me," she said before having the bag pushed back to her.

"Keep your money for now," D stated simply.

While replacing the bag, something occurred to her. Every time D happened to talk, his voice was monotonous and calm and his face never showed emotion. 'That takes my stoic perspective to a whole new level! I never knew someone could be this stoic!'

"We'll stop to get supplies when we head out," he said, rattling Krista from the stoic subject in her head. Above all else, he wanted the countenanced carbuncle to stop talking when it felt it could. It was quite a pain to muffle his voice. "We'll leave when the sun rises." With that stated, all talking was a no-no until sunrise.

Krista prayed that they would not stop at a town that had a grudge against her. Why they would harbor hatred towards her, it was unknown. To stop at a town and leave at gunpoint seemed rather extreme. Had she been a murderer, she would understand. But there were more pressing matters.

She cast a sidelong glance at D, studying him through a curtain of crimson hair as he fed the cybernetic horse a pink apple. Just how far did this man's stoic persona extend? With a queer smile, she reached out with one lone finger, poking him inexplicably hard.


AN: If you have any suggestions or corrections please tell me (like if I made D talk to much). Also, it has come to my attention that some of my story has content severely close to other stories. I did not mean for that to be so. I have had this re-edited version typed for some time now. Again, sorry. I do not claim any other's work.