All Souls Night.

She *needed* this routine actually, though not quite in the way she needed air or Gabrielle's touch. Those she needed for simple survival, whereas the routine was more for her own sense of security.

She'd jogged the length of the wood twice before even sweating, and twice more for good measure. The light snow from the previous evening crunched beneath her thick-soled sneakers, and the air still held a crisp bite to it. The woods were silent again this morning, though without the sense of dread or fear Xena had sensed in previous mornings.

Still, she was cautious as she entered the wood for throwing practice, going so far as to bring out two blades and hold them at the ready in either hand. The wood might be at peace, but Xena was anything but.

It was less than a dozen paces in before she sensed movement. The thin blade, more resembling a hairpin than anything, was lancing the air before she'd even fully turned. It buried itself not even a millimeter from the foreclaw a very startled gray squirrel, who scampered upwards to the safety of higher branches. The other blade was suddenly sailing towards another tree trunk, this time in the direct path of a similarly- frightened squirrel, this one in the process of scampering to the opposite side of the trunk and out of view of this newcomer. It froze for only a tenth of a second before resuming its flight.

New blades slipped into both hands and Xena turned herself in a slow circle, eyes taking in a thousand and one details around her. Closing her eyes, she let fly first one, then the other blade. The first severed a single leaf from its stem on a low-hanging branch twelve paces from her. The other buried itself deep into a naturally darkened patch of bark on a trunk more than twenty paces away. Taking a cleansing breath, Xena silently thanked the trees and squirrels for this time and apologized for the distress she knew she caused. If only that old harpy of a grandmother could hear her now. The thought brought a bitter smirk to Xena's face as she collected her blades and stowed them away. That Bible-thumping bitch would have happily slaughtered everything on four legs and cut down every tree in sight, all because of some shallow reading of Genesis. And she'd have apoplexy if she knew just how she and Gabrielle 'entertained' each other at night.

Xena took a last, measuring look at the wood as she made her way to its edge. Something wasn't right, or so the suddenly-taunt hairs on the back of her neck informed her. Not wrong necessarily, just...

True, there were no birds singing that morning, the majority having the good sense to fly to warmer climates for the season. And the few squirrels and chipmunks she'd seen were too involved gathering their winter stores to spare her more than a moment's glance. Nature was quietly preparing for the passage of seasons.

So why did it feel as though she was under singular scrutiny?

Xena was suddenly anxious to be back with Gabrielle. *Very* anxious. And so wasted no time sprinting back to the house, long legs carrying her far. Though not far enough to escape the feeling of eyes on her.

To an outside observer, it would have looked as though one of the tallest trees suddenly had a woman's face appear out of its trunk. A face whose glowing eyes opened and followed the departure of dark-haired runner, a small smile forming and tugging at the hard bark of its lips.

Hope, who had taken refuge within this ancient tree, had watched the dark-haired one's activities from the moment she'd left the house with ever-growing fascination, closing her eyes only when she entered the woods directly lest they be seen.

*This* was the fragile, moody patron who all-but fled a restaurant and needed to be comforted like a child the previous night? This sleek creature, who acted with grace and precision which was nothing short of god-like? *This* was Gabrielle's companion for over a year now? Who could aim on instinct alone and who act upon those instincts without hesitation or error?

For an instant, Hope considered leaving the two of them to their peace, almost convinced her protective presence was unneeded. Then she took another look at this Xena's retreating back, this time with eyes for more than simply the physical.

She saw the dark wisps of nightmare and malevolent charms that trailed and surrounded her. This angered Hope as nothing else might, the stink of the Circle suddenly overpowering. She looked down, at the ground near her refuge's base. A single hand could be seen there, though only just, buried to the wrist.

Cruel as the thought was, Hope wished the little spy had put up more of a struggle against the assault she had directed, if only so her final demise could have proven more...protracted. It was a cruel thought, unworthy of the daughter of the gentle Gabrielle. Hope really didn't care, her own naturally gentle nature taking a hard edge where it came to the Ancient and her companion.

This last thought aside, Hope turned her attention back to the house. She was content this would be close enough for now, and so settled into her own intense surveillance, patiently awaiting the moment she knew would come.