Entrance to the Camp

Callie scoffed. "The only person who's been able to best me died years ago," she replied.

"Then you're in for a surprise." He smirked beneath his hood, shifting his grip.

Callie rolled her eyes. "You bore me with your theatrics," she said and sheathed her sword. "You're not even worth the energy.

"Mouse," the stranger declared smugly.

"Dirt." she shot back.

The stranger snorted. "Inventive, Callie."

"Well, I was gonna go with spineless, empty-headed twit but I thought I'd be nice for once." she said with a fake smile.

"I mean, that's a little forward for someone who hasn't seen my face," the stranger chuckled, twirling his sword.

"Says the idiot who's hiding his face. Do you have a face fetish or something?" she asked. "For someone who purposefully covers his face, you sure obsess about it a lot."

"Maybe I just don't think you should know who I am," the stranger shrugged, cocking his head.

"Then why are you obsessing on it?" Callie asked, crossing her arms. "Seems to me like you want me to know."

"I'm not obsessing," the stranger retorted. "You're the one obsessing."

"You're the one that keeps mentioning it." she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Fine, we're not mentioning it again," the stranger snarked.

"Oooh touchy." Callie chuckled. "Geez. If that stick was shoved up any higher, it'd pierce your pea-sized brain."

The stranger rolled his eyes, though she couldn't see, and sheathed his blade, moving to walk back up the hill.

As he passed her, she made a quick movement. She grabbed her dagger as well as his hood and in one swift motion, pulled the hood off and cut it from his clothing.

The stranger bent away quickly, hand rising to cover his face. Sandy hair wasn't much to go on, if you were trying to figure out his identity.

"There ya go, blondey. Show me the face you're so obsessed with." she mocked.

The stranger sighed to himself. He'd known he couldn't keep running, couldn't keep hiding, couldn't keep who he was a secret. So he let his hand fall and turned to face her.

The second her light green eyes landed on his face, she froze and the smug smirk dropped. Her heart pounded in her chest. There was no way he could be alive. Not in a million years. he was dead. She was sure of it.

"Miss me?" was all Balthazar could say, really. He'd been 'dead' for three years.

His words set something off in her and she stalked forward before bringing her fist back and thrusting it towards his face with an angry scowl on hers.

He barely dodged back in time and his customary nervous grin was back. "Woah, hey," he laughed. "You okay there, Callie?"

"How could you do that to me?!" she yelled, throwing more punches. "You were supposed to be dead! I mourned you! I cried for days over you!" She felt tears prick her eyes and swallowed them back. She stopped punching him, and bent down, grabbing a rock and chucking it at him.