"And don't even think of blaming this on my 'delicate condition'!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Drake said, tightening the cloth strip around the slash on Logan's upper arm. Logan drew a sharp breath as the final knot was tied, but knew the wound must be tightly bound, as it would be at least a day before they reached the next town.

Drake sat back on his heels, looking at his handiwork. "That should hold, if you don't use that arm too much."

"Great. Well, as that's my sword arm, I'll leave it up to you keep us out of any more fights," Logan said with a grimace.

Drake helped Logan to her feet, then began gathering up their belongs where they had scattered during the scuffle.   He found the large sketchpad behind a tree, a few pages dirty, but otherwise intact. He turned to Logan, who was leaning against another tree a few feet away. "That's your drawing hand."

Logan opened her eyes and glared at her companion. "Yes, it is."

"I'm sorry," Drake said. There was an awkward moment of silence before he added, "I'm sure it will heal soon."

"Yes, fine. You've said that already." Logan closed her eyes again, arm throbbing.

Drake gathered the rest of their belongings, and set both bags near Logan's feet. He filled the water skin at a nearby stream, and offered it to Logan. She shook her head, but he handed it to her anyway. She swore as she tried to use her wounded arm to raise it to her lips. Switching it to her other hand, she managed to spill a good bit before she got any in her mouth.

Drake cleaned his redwood hilted dagger on the corner of his tunic, and put it back in its sheath. He also cleaned Logan's short sword, and restored it to its scabbard. He looked up at her. "Should I carry it?"

"No."

Drake nodded, and stood. He approached her, holding one end of the sword belt in either hand. She looked at him, then nodded, standing away from the tree. Drake restored the belt to its place, taking care to not jar Logan's arm. He placed the scabbard on the opposite side from where it normally sat, so she could draw it with her off-hand, should trouble arise. He was fastening the belt, careful get the perfect balance between too tight and too loose, eyes focused on the buckles he asked " Am I really that bad?"

"What?"

"Have I doubted you, or your ability? Have I made you feel that your being a girl constitutes a, how did you put it, a 'delicate condition'?"

"Its not that," Logan said. She stepped away from Drake, "that's fine." She adjusted the belt with her left hand, and Drake picked up both their bags. Logan didn't protest. They had walked half a mile before she said any more.

"Its not that you treat me like I'm not capable, or competent. And you've honored my wish to keep my secret, not trying to undermine my decision even if you don't agree with it. Its just, you treat me differently than you used to."

"Do I?" Drake asked. Logan did not miss the dry tone of his voice. Against caution she continued.

"Yes. Before, I would be carrying my own bag, for instance. Or I would have handled the bandit on my own, instead of you stepping in once you had finished the one on you."

The gravel crunching under their feet and the birdsong of the jays was the only sound for a while.

"You don't have to protect me, you know," Logan said. "I can handle myself."

She walked on another few paces before when she realized her companion's footfalls had stopped. He stood in the road, looking at her even as she turned. His eyes had grown hard.

"I don't have to protect you? I don't think that's for you to decide. I'm sorry if my caring for you makes you feel 'delicate', but I'm not going to stop just because you are uncomfortable."

"See? You say you're okay traveling with a girl, but you're not! You feel like you have to protect me, and that's-"

"Who says that I protect you because you're a girl? I'd go to the same lengths for anyone I care about, boy or girl. I'm sorry you're so self-conscious about your gender to blame my actions on it."

Blue eyes met green and held for a moment, anger flaring on both sides. Drake broke the stare, and began walking. "It's not that I'm self-conscious, dimwit," Logan said, keeping Drake's angry pace, not complaining that his stride was longer, and not loosing him either. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

"Bringing that up again, that I didn't realize you were a girl? Or is it that I'm compassionate enough to care about my traveling companions? Does my sense of justice and doing the right thing make me dense?"

"No! You're dense because you don't realize that by going out of your way to protect me that you put yourself in danger!" Logan made an angry gesture with her arm, and grimaced at the pain from the sword slash. "You were so intent on getting to me to protect me you didn't see the other guy waiting to ambush you! What good does protecting someone do if you aren't around afterwards?"

Logan was prepared when Drake stopped this time, and met his eyes, unflinching. He looked down at her, and saw blood seeping through the bandage on her arm, a wound received when she left her fight to step in and block a blow that was headed for Drake's neck. She glared at him, her eyes daring him to try to argue his point again, her body tense and shaking with emotion. She looked like she was ready to explode.

Drake closed his eyes, tilting his head to the sky. "Gods, I really am dense, aren't I?" He felt Logan lean her head on his chest. He wrapped one arm across her back, taking care to avoid her wounded arm. "I didn't ... I'm sorry."

Logan nodded. After a moment she pulled away from Drake, and they resumed their trek to the next town in silence.