The man's words confused her. [i]Dungeons and what?[/i] Skye thought, resisting the urge to run a hand through her hair in thought. Instead, that hand remained on the arrow, ready to release. The way the man was treating her, in her eyes, was passive aggressive. He had called her a bullshit roleplayer, or something like that, and mentioned dungeons. Was he insulting her? She [i]was not[/i] a bullshit person. Was he trying to capture her? He was definitely mentioning a dungeon, no communication error there.

She began to feel a little scared on the inside. Skye had done nothing wrong! Was he some sort of captor from another land, going to try and steal her and make her work as a slave wherever he came from? That seemed the most likely, dressed in such threatening apparel and acting in such a manner he was. The stereotypical rough slave driver popped into her head.

He hadn't answered her question either, so he was clearly trying to remain anonymous. No, she wasn't going to-

Skye's hand released the arrow the second he took a step closer, without her even thinking about it. The conclusions she had come to had triggered the response. She froze, however, when the arrow struck the man's chestplate and did not penetrate, just fall to the ground. She reached back to pull a second arrow out of her quiver, going to fire this one at the man's faceplate if she got it drawn fast enough. [i]Go for the eyes,[/i] her mind told her. The man had no eyes, but a faceplate, and she hoped it would be weaker there.