The Rebel Woman ( 2 )

        Florana pushed the hood a little further back. The black cloth made her melt into the night well, but she couldn’t see anything under it! A little splash fell at her feet, and she cursed. Another hooded figure, one of many with her in the alley, came up beside her, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She caught her breath, turned around, and huffed.

         “Amnis, who the hell had the great idea to make the hoods bigger for the ‘let’s go graffitti-ing in the dark’ missions?” She turned around and managed to paint her other sleeve red with the brush. She cursed again, and brushed her hand over the sleeve as if swiping the paint off. An intense mini gust of air from under her palm blew most of the paint right off to the ground, but some stubbornly stayed.

         “I never did get how you women could do that. But, if I remember correctly, it was your idea, Sweetie.” He took her paintbrush, finished the last letter, and dropped it in the bucket. The other members stood back, admired their work, and huddled around the pair. No faces were visible, but they knew each other well.

         She pulled back the hood. “Good job team. Strong message, strong colors, strong teamwork. Everyone knows their alternate routes back to the Lair, and remember to take your hoods off in public. I’ll be there in twenty. Dismissed.” Everyone nodded, and headed off in their own directions. The men paired up with women who could hide their buckets and containers in shopping baskets or under shawls. All disappeared into the dark immediately.

         She turned back around, and they stood there a few more seconds. She admired the work, the dedication her followers had, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly sad that this is what it had come to. The Rebels in Aridaen had flourished, only to be stomped down and degraded to scribbling politico-graffiti on alley walls. She read the message and sighed.

         Bring the Dragons Down. They are NOTHING. Rebel!

         No. It wasn’t like that. She knew why she lead them. She knew she had to, because she was the only one who could. She only wished that the situation right now allowed for a little more breathing room. She reached down, and stroked the -hilt of her sword. The leather-wrapped metal was so familiar in her hand, it was comforting.

         Amnis came up beside her again. “So, when you’re done admiring your handiwork, I think you should get home.” He kissed her on the cheek, and took her hand off the sword. She frowned. “Don’t worry. I’ll be home in a bit. Just need to see an old friend about something. Twenty minutes at the latest.”

         She grumbled, something rude about men and their stupid hidden agendas. He huffed, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and pulled her hood down over her eyes again.

         She tried to swipe at him. Pulling the hood off, she only saw his leg as it wrapped around a corner, disappearing along with him into the dark. It was silly, but not kissing him back made her a little sad. She sighed, picked up her things, and walked out off the alley after him.