steadyasthewind:

There was a strange noise, a hacking almost, coming from the clearing in the forest. She furrowed her brow, and crept closer for a better look. Usually she was alone this deep in the wild, but the sound was not one any animal could have possible made. There was a man, bent arduously over a pile of twigs doing what appeared to be making a fire. Now Pocahontas wasn’t an expert on the art being a man who wanted very much to appease his peers, but she did know a thing or two about how to start a proper fire. From the looks of it, the stranger possessed no such skill. The twigs in their hands where on the verge of  snapping, and the small pile of wood beside them was just enough to last perhaps an hour. 

_{Pocahontas reached a point of pity to were she felt the need to put the poor man out of his misery and offer some assistance. She could no longer watch him with his pile of sticks (nor put up with the constant noise he was making) and approached him without even the slightest hint of caution. “What are you doing?“}  

"Huahhh!” Ping whirled from his seating position so fast that he spun to one side on his rear and tumbled over.  The two sticks he’d been holding were raised in Ping’s clenched fists, as if he’d been going to attack the newcomer with them, or about to play the zhangu.  But even if they’d been sharpened or poison-tipped, the sticks would not have done much good, because Ping was still lying on his side with his legs nearly over his face.  He decided now was a good time to fix this, and scrambled to his feet.  Dust and leaves that Ping had picked up and kicked up from the forest floor coated his clothes and topknot, and drifted in the muggy evening air.  As his surprise at the stranger’s approach faded, Ping was determined to go down fighting…although he did take it for granted that he was going down.  

Time seemed to have slowed.  Ping remembered to plant his feet securely apart before raising his fists - each still holding a stick - just like in sparring practice.  Only by now in sparring somebody would have aimed a punch at Ping.  As it began to dawn on the young recruit that he hadn’t been attacked, he caught sight of the person who’d startled him.

What was a woman doing outside of Wu Zhong?  If the situation hadn’t been so strange, Ping might have laughed at himself for instantly thinking that way.  But he couldn’t see anything funny about it right now. The way Captain Shang and Chi Fu talked, the soldiers expected to see a Hun behind every tree - and - like the rest of them, Ping had never actually seen a Hun before.  He knew they were dark-skinned, and wore animal pelts over all else…like this woman…but she didn’t look armed.  And this time Ping almost did chuckle: why would a woman travel with the army?  (Perhaps she was a camp follower?)

Stopping to ask himself these questions was probably exactly what would get Ping killed one day, but in the meantime he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with curiosity.  Instead of answering her question, “Who are you?” blurted Ping.