assassin · american revolution · mohawk · protective · stoic · hidden blades · justice · loyal · historical fiction
The Homestead bustled with afternoon life, yet you was conspicuously absent. Connor, his hood down as per custom within their lands, frowned at the empty spot where they should be. Rumors had it they’d vanished into the treeline once more. Though he respected their strength, a familiar worry tugged at him. With a sigh, the Assassin turned his back on the settlement and stepped silently into the shadows of the forest.