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Different Hearts, Same Love	By : FlayraDowitcher Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1572 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
***Warnings: Langauge, soft yaoi, minor violence

***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter 6

"So…this is honeysuckle?" Francis asked as he held up the small white flower in front of his face, eyes crossed as he stared. "Where's the honey?"

"In the stem." Arthur took his and placed the bottom of the flower to his mouth and sucked. "Mm…very refreshing." He smacked his lips. "I'm going to gather some more so we can have it in our tea. A little hot water and the flower soaking? Delightful."

"It's a flower. I'm not eating a flower." Francis said with pouty lips. "I was expecting something more. Who eats flowers?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You don't EAT them, you numbskull! The sweet flavor is in the stem. Just do as I did."

Francis stuck his nose in the air and twiddled the flower from his fingers letting it float to the ground. "I will not eat or suck on a flower like some common plant eater!"

"You can eat flowers, you know. Some are edible."

Francis placed his hands on his hips. "Don't tell me you also feast on flowers?" He watched Arthur's smug smile as the man walked away a few steps and picked up a common looking red flower. Francis gasped loudly when Arthur put it in his mouth and chewed. Francis stuck his tongue with an 'eww' noise, hearing the petals crunching softly under Arthur's teeth. "You're not cute anymore."

Arthur chuckled and crossed his arms, bending slightly at the waist to gaze at Francis. "You eat vegetables, do you not?"

"Certainly."

"A vegetable is a plant. A flower is a plant. Why do you eat one and not the other? Both are the same. They grow from seeds; they need water and sunlight to mature. Why would you discriminate between the two?"

Francis hated Arthur's snobbish nature philosophy. "How about the 'Francis Philosophy' that says, 'maybe I just don't want to'?"

"The philosophy of simpletons, you mean." Francis glared and Arthur chuckled. However, Francis knew a way to get back at him.

"I'll make sure I dry hump you the next time you're grazing on the flora." Francis laughed at Arthur's furious face.

But Arthur countered with, "So you fuck livestock where you come from too? Can't just stop at humans?"

Francis was going to fight back, but then he remembered he wanted to woo Arthur just to prove him wrong. Arthur was a stubborn man who was purposefully difficult, so that his heart would remain locked in a cell. There was no man or woman that Francis could not charm; its just Arthur was more… 'unique' than most he came in contact with. "Cute," was the simple reply he gave. "So, where to next? Do we keep continuing through the plains? Please say 'yes'?" Francis begged.

"Sissy. We have a bit of a ways to go until we are back in the woods." Francis cheered as he got the answer he wanted.

"Wonderful! Let us continue through this beautiful utopia of flora and fauna!"

Arthur followed a few steps behind. "I thought you hated the outdoors?"

"Well, not this place. This place is…shall we say, the 'clean' part of nature? It represents MY palace in nature form, of which I like."

Arthur ignored him and the two men walked through field upon field of flowers and grass. They paused for a rest and watched the clouds roll by; pointing out what they thought each one looked like. For a short while they argued over if one cloud looked more like a bird or a rabbit. Francis had given in to Arthur, allowing the other to think it looked like a bird. After their rest, they continued on through the fields with Francis skipping or twirling every so often. Francis even waved at some of the animals that crossed their path. They had to stop and take another rest because all of his dancing caused Francis to stumble upon some poison ivy, catching it on his arm. Arthur had to mix a salve to soothe the itching.

He had to admit that Francis enjoying the nature around him was a comforting sight. He had honestly believed that there was no way the nobleman would ever see the beauty in the natural world. However, this was a magical land very unlike the general forests and mountains. Francis has smelled flowers, petted animals, and even ate a few wild berries all on his own. Francis had to ask Arthur if the berries were safe to eat; another new feature in the nobleman he approved of. Francis was accepting his council and asking questions rather than verbally attacking him. Once they were back in to the 'real' forest, then the old Francis would emerge.

At sunset, the men decided to set up camp near a small pond to rest for the night. For dinner they dined on dried meat and fresh greens Arthur had gathered on their journey. With little complaint, Francis ate the foliage given to him regardless of its look or name. Arthur even showed Francis how to properly build a campfire and rub the rocks together to produce flame. The rock technique took a number of tries, but Francis was filled with delight when the sparks ignited the wood. Arthur fetched some water in their pot and heated it, dropping in some of the honeysuckle flowers to seep. Together they silently enjoyed a wooden mug of honeysuckle tea while watching the first evening star appear in the sky. It was a peaceful, tender moment between the two men and when Francis tried to lace his fingers with Arthur's, they were painfully bent back.

"OW! Arthur, that was uncalled for!" Francis waved his hand in the air trying to soothe the ache.

"What have I told you about touching me?" Arthur hissed back at him. "Don't touch me, you hairy old goat!"

Francis stood up with his mug of honeysuckle tea. "I do not need this abuse while enjoying my tea! If you'll excuse me, I'll be over THERE!" Francis walked away a couple of feet, giving his back to Arthur.

Arthur sipped calmly at his tea while ignoring Francis' childish attitude. The sooner Francis was out of this atmosphere the sooner Arthur would not have to worry about the pervert. Granted, Francis was a romantic pervert, but a pervert nonetheless. Arthur turned his green eyes to gaze upon the nobleman with the usual frown of disapproval when the area around them started to change.

Arthur knew what was happening but he didn't know the reason why. Rarely did his visions come to him so far from the clan's base. The beautiful area around them slowly wilted to a brown shade then gray before becoming ash. Trees were melting and the sky above was roaring with thunder. Francis began to melt as well. The man stood still while his skin and muscle dripped from his body, leaving only a standing skeleton. White bones began to crack and chip, quickly turning to a dark shade of red before crumbling into a pile of ash. Arthur watched the ashes blow away while a faint screaming echoed in his ears. Very slowly, Arthur turned his head to the other direction where the screams were coming from. The sound caused a ripple of fear in his heart, making his palms moist and his brow sweat. But when he looked down at his hands, they were covered in blood and not sweat. He tried to wipe it off because he knew it was not his blood but another's. Francis.

Those screams were the result of the ritual taking place. Arthur had seen many sacrifices while being with the clan and knew full well what was going to happen to Francis once he was placed on that stone table. Arthur could even see it happening before him as if he were at the site now. The clan members would carry Francis to the ritual table where they would tie him down. With each limb tied to a corner, the headmaster would then heat a dagger blade in the green fire and proceed to the table. There, the necessary markings would be made along Francis' body while the spells were chanted by everyone seated in a circle. Arthur himself would be sitting on a stone stool surrounded by offerings and herbs while watching the headmaster perform the sacrificial ritual.

It was all for him. Every drop of blood and worship chant was for him and him alone. It was the only place that made him feel wanted and safe. There he was revered as a spiritual god for possessing the power of foresight and ability to listen to nature. He had to escape from this place. Francis would be his last offering then he would run. Run and run and never look back.

"I have to leave…" Arthur whispered out loud but Francis had heard it while walking back to the bedrolls.

"What are you doing?" Francis cocked his head when he noticed Arthur's peculiar stare. Kneeling down to get a closer look, Francis's eyes widened to match the enlarged pupils of his companion. "Arthur?" Francis was frightened by the appearance of Arthur's eyes, going so far as to rub his own to make sure he was not seeing things. Looking again there was no change in Arthur's eyes so he grew worried. "ARTHUR!" He started to shake him. "What's wrong? Arthur! Arthur, answer me!" Now he was beginning to panic. Arthur would do strange things but this was beyond normal. "ARTHUR!" He stood and slapped the man's cheek, hard.

Arthur shook his head and his pupils returned to normal within seconds. "Hm?" He turned and looked at Francis. "Oh, Francis, it's you. Why are you staring at me?" Arthur could still picture Francis melting as he spoke. "What's wrong?"

"Uh…?" Francis couldn't believe that Arthur was unaware of what had happened. "You zoned out. It was really…really creepy. You were staring at nothing, your eyes were big and your lips were moving but not speaking. What happened to you? I was starting to get worried!"

Arthur's brows lifted at the sight of Francis' genuine concerned face. "Why were you getting worried? I was fine."

Now Francis was annoyed. "Well you didn't LOOK fine! I've never seen you do that before, so of course I would be concerned! What in all of creation was going on with you?"

"It was just something that happens to me sometimes. Like when snakes suddenly appear or I see the mystical creatures. It's nothing to worry about next time, so don't be frightened." Arthur patted the bedroll beside him. "Come, we need to rest."

Francis twirled his hair. "I don't know if I can sleep after that. You looked so…so ODD."

"Like you tell me every day." Arthur snorted and settled into his own bedroll. "Goodnight." He heard Francis muttering but then recognized the shuffling of blankets beside him. Francis was finally settling down so Arthur allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

After a heavy vision such as that one, Arthur usually fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion. Tonight, however, he found himself waking up while the moon was high in the sky. Sitting up and rubbing his eye, Arthur glanced over at Francis to find the man snoring softly. The vision was still fresh in his memory and a stroll normally helped to ease the images. Quietly he stood from his bedroll and wandered away from the camp to follow along the bank of the pond. He smiled softly at the fairies flying above the water, dipping every so often to lighten the water. It had been a while since he last took a swim, and here in the plains it was a rare treat to be in the presence of so many fairies.

Certain that Francis was asleep; Arthur quickly disrobed and folded his clothes neatly in a pile. Looking back over his shoulder for any signs of Francis but seeing none, Arthur stepped gingerly into the cool water until it reached his waist. He sighed in content and dipped under the water to slick his hair back. The water was refreshing and cold on his skin but slowly grew warmer. Surrounding him were water lily with flowers closed up tight, awaiting the sunrise. Arthur slipped his hand underneath a lily pad to cup it in his palm. He would have to take a few of these once he was done his swim for herbal purposes. A fairy came and sat weightlessly on his shoulder. Arthur smiled at the creature and waved it on to join its companions. He looked up to the moon then and sighed.

"What am I going to do about that vision?" He spoke out loud softy to himself.

There was something different about the vision now that he had more time to think it over. Dying plant life and changing atmospheres always held a special warning. When he had known about the flood coming, Arthur saw the dead floating along in the sky with their limbs all outspread. He himself was unable to breathe and felt as if his entire body was sinking in water and the people above had already drowned. Arthur had tried to warn the villagers about the flood and to move to high ground as soon as possible. As usual, no one believed him and when the heavy, seemingly endless rains came, the rivers and lakes flooded. He never knew how many people had died as a result of the long rains, but he was safe and dry up on high land. Since that last moment he had stopped trying to warn people about impending doom. He rather spread the word to the forest spirits instead.

But this vision had been long and detailed like so many others before it. The only thing confusing him was Francis' bones turning red. That was something completely new to his visions and never could recall seeing it any other time. What did it mean? Arthur wondered if the red bones had something to do with the man being sacrificed. Perhaps Francis' body would help to wipe out the disease sweeping the land. The unicorn had said otherwise, but Arthur still had his doubts about the creature's words. One thing he was sure about, however, was that Francis' sacrifice would ensure his freedom, and that was worth everything to him.

/

"Well, well, well…look who is finally taking a bath!" Francis grinned to himself as he peeked through the tall grass at the bathing man in the pond. He had snuck away after Arthur when he was awoken by the man's movement. Last time he had seen a unicorn, so Francis wondered what he would see this time. He was pleasantly surprised by Arthur's body form; lithe muscles underneath pale skin, flawless skin.

That's what he thought before noticing the strange tattoo markings on Arthur's body. The tattoos were abstract in design, decorating his arms, shoulders, and upper back. Most of them appeared to be just lines resembling snakes, or swirls. As he continued to gaze at Arthur's back the more the designs began to move. The lines twisted and swirled around each other, hypnotizing him. The feeling did not seem odd or magical, but rather very casual. Francis found himself stripping and walking into the water himself, ignoring the icky feel of the water lilies. Arthur apparently did not hear or sense him coming up from behind and Francis smirked. Even if it weren't for the strange markings he was tempted to kiss, hump, or even sleep with Arthur right here in the pond. The man was in the water, clean (enough) of scum, and fresh for the taking. Francis had really gone too long without any sexual physical human contact. What's the worse that could happen?

Arthur dragged his hand along the water top, watching the liquid roll over his fingers. The sound and simple movement was very relaxing and he closed his eyes, savoring the silence of the night air. His peace was cut short by a pair of arms encircling him, one nearing his groin and the other approaching his neck. Arthur gave an angry smile and a scoff when he realized whose hands they were. Judging by the hairy hands, arms, and knuckles, the culprit was Francis. Arthur's thick brow twitched as he felt Francis' soft lips rest against the crook of his neck. "Maintain your distance, sir."

"How can I ignore this beautiful water lily floating freely among the liquid foliage?" Came Francis' romantic reply.

"What did I say about eating those tree mushrooms?" He asked with sarcasm, but the man behind him didn't seem to care to fight back. Francis' right hand drifted lower beneath the water and slipped between Arthur's inner thighs. Arthur let out a soft gasp and flushed at the familiar touch, thinking back to his many nights with HIM. HIS hands had been rough, but Francis' hands were soft and they stroked him with sweet tenderness. The touch was so absent to him that he found his legs spreading wider for the other's fingers. "No…stop." He cried softly while the other hand pinched and tweaked his nipple. So many ancient feelings of lust and pleasure were flowing through him like wildfire and the only way to keep himself from giving in was to fight those urges.

"Mmm…judging by the twitching and rising heat of your body, it seems to want more of what I am giving."

"Never. Never from you." Arthur hissed, but groaned when Francis used his nails to pinch the pink nipple between them.

"Do not think of me as 'Francis Bonnefoy'. You may think of me as your past lover." He started thrusting his hips into Arthur's backside. "Before you ruin the moment with questions, I am doing this because I want to. You are in the water, fresh and clean…and seeing you naked just sparked a lust within me. Soft…lean…-"

'Pervert. Stupid, old, spoiled, hairy pervert!' Arthur said to himself. 'Why are your touches like magic? Why can I not push you away?' Francis' lips went to Arthur's ear, making the green-eyed man shudder.

"I want to fuck you, Arthur Kirkland." He said in a husky, breathy voice while rubbing his erection against Arthur's cleft. "I want to really taste the treasures and mysteries of the woods." He squeezed another nipple. "I want to release the wild beast within you so you howl my name in pleasure while I make you reach completion again, and again, and again." His words grew to a soft whisper with each repeat.

Arthur looked up at the moon and shuddered in delight, feeling the blood rush to his groin with full arousal. How he damned the ex-lover for showing him such pleasures and damn the man who is awaking them. Imagining his old lover storming into the cabin, lifting him from the table, and tossing him on the bed only to fuck him senseless was a feeling he missed terribly. He wanted to feel that again, but only with his lost lover. Would Francis be able to fill the empty void of a past love and was Arthur willing to risk it?

"Stop. I don't want this," Arthur said in a whisper.

"But you need it," came Francis's reply and Arthur knew he was right.

"Maybe…but not with you, for you are everything I detest." He gasped when Francis squeezed his body tighter, hot breath tickling the curve of his ear.

"You can still feel good without having to like the person."

"That is where you are wrong." Arthur growled. "And that is a spot where we differ!" He turned himself around in Francis' arms and tried to push away. Francis was holding tight and the strength surprised him. "Let go!"

"No! Not until I get a kiss!"

"I'D RATHER DROWN!"

Francis threw all caution to the wind and crushed his lips to Arthur's, moving his arms to wrap around the other's waist. He felt Arthur trying to pull away from both the kiss and embrace, so he moved one hand up to cup the rough stands of blonde hair. Holding Arthur's head against his mouth so he couldn't move, Francis took a chance and thrust his tongue out to push past Arthur's lips. Arthur made a grunting sound when Francis moved and swirled his tongue inside the moist heat. He was expecting a massive bite before he could continue further, but there was nothing of the sort. Instead, Arthur was responding to the kiss with hands pressed firmly against Francis' chest. Francis was hoping those hands would relax and wrap around his neck instead of trying to push away.

Arthur was the only living person around him, and Francis never knew just how desperate he could become. The idea of kissing or sleeping with Arthur should (and still does) appall him, but at this moment it didn't seem to bother him. He wanted Arthur right here and now. With a little tender stroking and deeper kissing, Francis was certain the cold exterior would melt and Arthur would beg to be ravished. But instead of a romantic turn out like he had hoped, Francis felt his leg pulled out from under him. Immediately he had to let go of Arthur, flopping around in the water as he fell and tried to regain balance. Arthur then shoved his head under water and held Francis there while he splashed frantically. The man was trying to drown him! Within a minute, Francis felt his head lifted from the water and his lungs screamed for air.

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP!" Arthur screamed at him, his face a furious red. Arthur still held two large fistfuls of Francis' golden hair.

"LET ME GO!"

"NEVER!" Arthur dunked him again, and then pulled him up. "You didn't let me go when I asked for it!" Another dunk.

After coming up for air a third time, Francis managed to flap his way out of Arthur's hold. Coughing and sputtering, Francis glared blue eyes at green. "That was…uncalled for, Arthur."

"I told you 'no', yet you continued to pursue me. Do not mistake me for one of your cheap whores whose legs turn to water when you waltz on by! It takes much more than th-AT!" Arthur yelped when Francis' hand gripped his semi-hard arousal.

"Then what is this?" Francis held on to Arthur's erection, making it near impossible for the man to pull away comfortably. "This is not the feeling of one who resists."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "It is lust, nothing more." He breathed out.

"Lust that needs to be sated. No strings attached, no emotions, no commitment. Just two men, alone on a journey, who need physical as well as emotional comfort."

"I need no comfort!" Arthur knew it was a lie, but would rather hide it from himself than give in. "I am fine the way I am."

"Arthur, you miss your lover; a man who spent all his days and nights with you, then suddenly up and left. A long time companion was gone from your life. You need to let other people in, Arthur." Francis removed his hand from Arthur's erection. "We can be 'fuck friends'." He smiled at the other's confused expression.

"And what is that?"

"Normally I hate using the term or word at all, but it relates to you and I having sex together just for pleasure. We can still see other people if we want."

Arthur turned away from him in the water, giving the man his back. "No. I will not do it. I want it all or nothing at all. Would you want me as a lover?" Francis was silent. "I figured. You don't want a lover and neither do I. You just have to wait until you are in the city because there will be no pleasure from me."

Francis sighed and looked at the tattoos on Arthur's back. "Yes, you are right, Arthur. I'm sorry for jumping you. However, I was attracted to these tattoos adorning your body. May I ask what they mean?"

"…my lover and I would tattoo each other. These are HIS designs, nothing more. They're ugly." It was a lie.

Francis ran his finger over one. "I think they're unique. These were what attracted me to you in the water."

Arthur was silent at first, and then said, "You are such an odd ball."

"Will you at least let me lay with you for the rest of the night? I promise I won't do anything." Francis was serious but Arthur looked not to believe him. "If I do, I swear you can cut off my pinky finger."

"Could you put that in writing for me?" Francis frowned and Arthur smirked. "We are a strange pair, you and I. We bring out the worst in each other."

Francis shook his head with an amused smile. "I suppose you're right. So, the offer still stands." He wiggled his brows.

"Aren't you afraid of the bugs I might have?" Arthur sneered.

"I found many bugs on me with or without you ever being near me. I rather feel at home cuddled in someone's arms than sleeping on the cold ground all alone. I'll be waiting for you at the camp and hoping to feel you crawl into my bed." Francis winked and made his way out of the water.

Arthur considered Francis' offer and wondered if he should allow himself to take advantage. Those times he was cuddled up into Francis felt comforting, but Arthur feared he may start to grow attached and that he could not have. Arthur was bringing the man to his doom, not to his bed. To make the temptation easier to handle, Arthur dipped lower into the water and started to stroke himself. Thinking of only his past lover, it took Arthur a few minutes to reach completion and when he did, the image of Francis flashed in his mind. His ex-lover brought it to a head, but Francis brought him to completion. Still, Arthur would not allow himself to get close to the man. Francis stood for everything he despised; they would never be able to get along. Their lives and ideals were just too different.

"Of course…being completely in love and committed brought nothing but heartbreak," Arthur whispered to himself.

/

Francis pretended to be asleep when he heard the approaching sound of Arthur's boots nearing their camp. Now was the big moment. He hoped that Arthur would crawl into his bedroll with him, which would make Francis the victor. This small victory would prove that he was slowly chipping away at Arthur's hard exterior. Perhaps he was unable to satisfy himself with Arthur's body, but at least he was making a dent. However, when Arthur walked past him, the men settled right into the other bedroll. Francis cracked an eye open and stared at Arthur's back. The man was turned away from him and alone in his own bedroll. Francis took a deep, soft breath so to not alert the other man. He had to admit that he was a little bit hurt by Arthur's rejection. There had never been a person as stubborn as Arthur Kirkland. Now the game was REALLY on, and Francis swore he was going to come out the victor. No man or woman could ever deny Francis Bonnefoy for long!

/

"Your form is all wrong!" Arthur shouted at Francis while the nobleman tried to steady the bow.

"Come on, Arthur! My arm and hand are tired!" He whined.

"Hmph!" Arthur angrily crossed his arms. "Maybe if you weren't so busy whacking off last night then your wrist would be much stronger than it is now! Honestly, you have no stamina!"

Francis lowered the bow with a smirk. "My 'arrow' has a different target. It requires little stretching to fly straight on into its intended spot?" He yelped when Arthur kicked him in the back of the knee, making him stumble.

"Once again, you stupid, fat frog! You do it like this!" Arthur stood beside Francis and mimicked the proper pose to aim the bow. When he touched Francis' bent hand with his own a little shiver of delight slithered up his arm. He tried not to remember any images of last night. "Relax your bow arm…just let the arrow fly." He frowned when Francis started nuzzling their cheeks together. "Why do you keep asking for death by my hand?"

"I want to die while making love!"

"Then it won't be with me. Now concentrate." Arthur fixed Francis' form before pressing up against him again. "Just let the arrow go. Keep your arm steady." Francis let loose the arrow and it flew over the said target which was a pile of tied sticks. "Well done." Arthur laughed.

"Do not laugh at me, Arthur Kirkland!" Francis grabbed another bow from the quiver. "Just you wait! I'll be a sharp shooter in no time!"

Arthur watched in amusement from his spot on a rock, tearing at a piece of dried meat while he enjoyed Francis' many fails. "I think you're the first person I've ever met who gets worse the more they try!" He couldn't stop himself from laughing.

Francis growled and cocked another arrow. "We'll see about that! ARROW FLY STRAIGHT AND TRUE!" Francis let the arrow loose and it split straight through the center of the sticks. Francis grinned and gave a holler of triumph. "YEAAAAAH! What do you think of THAT, Arthur?!" He boasted proudly, yet noticed the horrified look written on Arthur's face. "Ha! Are you amazed by my talents?" Francis really wanted to drop the bow and just rub his aching arm and wrist.

"That was not your arrow." Arthur called over to him. "That belongs to another!"

Francis froze, giving a heavy gulp. "A-Another? I thought this place was safe?"

"It is." Arthur slipped from the rock and moved closer to Francis. "Unless they are-"

"GET DOWN!" Francis tackled Arthur to the ground when he saw and heard the whistling of arrows coming their way. Luckily, as the arrows fell upon them neither one was pierced. "Arthur, are you alright?" They both knelt in the grass.

"We're in trouble. Big trouble." Arthur saw the dark figures moving around behind the regular forest, slowly coming into view as they stepped onto the land. It was a group of seven men, loosely clad in linen but carrying large weapons. They wore masked made from carved animal skulls. Arthur knew what they were. "Spiritual Warriors," he whispered.

"Spiritual Warriors?" Francis started to tremble as he looked at the fairly large and muscle toned men slowly coming their way.

"They may even be responsible for the ritual hangings we saw."

Francis yelped and turned blue in the face. "I don't want to loose my brain and heart! Set a snake on them or something!" The men were moving closer. "DO SOMETHING!" Francis whispered harshly.

"It doesn't work that way! We can't run…their arrows will find us easily, especially you."

"Th-then what do we do?" He asked, trembling as they approached, holding wooden hand weapons with carved rocks or bones for blades. Even clubs and axes.

"We will fight our way through…the unicorn will help us."

"The unicorn is not here…"

"If we make a large enough distraction it will come!" Arthur could hear the men speaking and understood their ancient language of the old spirits. They were whispering 'the eyes' over and over again, which Arthur knew referred to himself. Francis would not be able to understand them, but if they were caught then his cover would almost be completely blown. "Get ready to jump up, fight, and run through them!"

"What? Are you completely mad? I make love, not war!" Francis hissed in fear.

"You take the arrows…I'll take the bow."

The men suddenly raised their weapons above their heads and chanted loudly before each one took off in a run towards them.

End Chapter 6
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Different Hearts, Same Love