Rhys landed flat on his back with a heavy grunt. The wind immediately being forcibly ejected from his body as he spluttered out a cough while trying to gulp in heavy breaths. As a few seconds passed, his vision stopped spinning and he regained focus enough to hear the high pitched chuckling of Alice's younger brother, Wendall.

"You favour your right leg too much. It's easy to push you over when all your weight is on the one side of your body" Alice noted after flinging a towel at her younger brother to silence his laughing, and pulling Rhys up by his arm as if he weighed less than paper.

Wendall was twelve years of age, and was already approaching Alice in height. He was all stringy limbs, knobbly knees, and a cheeky bright smile that was missing a single tooth on both the top and bottom rows of his teeth. He held the same, warm, shade of skin as his sister. The same obsidian hair, although his was cut close to the head, and his eyes held the same keen perceptiveness for detail as hers did.

"I think it's time for a break." Rhys said with an exasperated sigh, as he approached his bag, zipping it open and pulling out a bottle of water. Not before giving Wendall a playful shove on the arm, which caused him to roll on to his back from where he was sitting.

"You're getting better." Alice reassured as she followed suit. To which Rhys could only respond with a disbelieving snort. He certainly didn't feel like he was getting better. He'd had Alice teach him how to fight for the passed few months now, and yet whenever they sparred, she'd have him on his back within seconds. At first he thought it was purely because of Alice's wolfish strength that gave her the upper hand, but after being told that strength is nothing compared to proper technique and the right leverage: he had discarded it from his mind. He supposed he shouldn't be too hard on himself. Alice had been practising for years, she was bound to be better.

The entire Morgan family were health nuts. They ate a proper diet, with actual vegetables, and it was mandatory for the two children to have at least one physical activity that they actively pursued. And woe befall any of them who even so much as looked at a drug or cigarette. As Alice found out at the age of fourteen when she tried smoking for the first time. The wolf mother that is Mrs Morgan, smelled it immediately, and Alice was stuck for the next three months scrubbing every inch of the house whenever she wasn't at school.

There were three things you could always rely on in this world. The Earth will keep spinning. The Sun will still come up in the morning, and nothing gets passed Mrs Morgans sense of smell.

As they sat upon the soft summer grass, enjoying the gentle breeze that seemed to carry the sweat of exercise from their bodies. For a moment; Rhys would swear he could smell the slight scent of the ocean. The salty brine was distinct, yet subtle. It struck Rhys as odd, as they were miles from the sea, and were too far from town to be anywhere near a fishmongers. It was then that Rhys noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was small, and being gently cradled by the wind as it floated steadily into his vision. He plucked it dexterously from the air, caging it within his fingers before studying it.

It was a small, midnight, feather. He thought it to be a down feather, as it was far too soft and flimsy to be used for flight. It tickled softly at the clammy palm of his hand. As Rhys' thoughts began to wonder about where it could of come from, the feather stood up on it's shaft. It danced lightly there, as if trying to gain some form of balance, and before he could react: the small feather viciously plunged itself into the soft flesh. The spark of bludgeoning pain caused Rhys to spring backwards with a yelp.

"Rhys!" Alice called, catching him before he could trip over the bags and onto the floor.

Rhys panicked, frantically wiping the palm of his hand onto his shirt as if to try and removed the feather, but when he looked at his palm, he found that the feather was gone. It was as if it hadn't been there at all. There was no hole in his hand. No tattered stands of feather to be seen. There wasn't even the gentle breeze that had carried the small feather to him, nor the smell of the sea.

"What the hell was that about?" She questioned as she looked concernedly at Rhys who was still curling his fingers inwards and relaxing them, as he studied confusedly at the space where the memory of the pain still itched slightly. It had been so real.

"I don't know. There was a feather and..." He looked up, catching notice of Wendall who looked understandably frightened, and suddenly felt a wash of embarrassment and guilt. "It's nothing. Just got lost in a day dream is all" He dismissed with a light chuckle, although he could tell that neither of them believed him as they exchanged that knowing look that only siblings seemed to share.

First the nightmare and now this. Rhys had, had hallucinations since he could remember. It was where the idea of him being able to see ghosts came from. But they'd never felt quite as real as this one had, and Rhys couldn't help but wonder if it was solely due to stress and worry that they had suddenly become so... aggressive. For the most part; they were manageable. At least he thought they were. Unless he had another outburst like this that was.

He looked up, and smiled warmly at Alice who was worriedly fiddling with the silver chain around her neck.

She was a fighter both literally and metaphorically speaking. Out of them all, it was her everyone just assumed would remain strong. So much so, that when Yasmine had died, they never questioned her own small ways of coping. Despite it evidently hitting her just as hard, if not harder than anyone else. Her strength was something that Rhys admired about her.

"Come on, Sifu. Let's go another round." He laughed throwing a punch harmlessly into her arm, where she laughed in response.

"If anything it's Sensei." She corrected

"What?"

"I'm teaching you Judo, not Wu Shu. Sifu is Chinese."

"Whatever. Lets go." He said with a roll of his eyes and stepping over to the section of grass they were sparring on before, spinning on his heel and pointing a challenging finger at Wendall "And don't think you're getting off either, Spud. I'm gonna beat you too, right after I beat your sister!"

"I'll be dead of old age before we get to fight then." Wendall retorted with a confident laugh as he sprawled himself out in the sweet smelling grass. Although he didn't get too much time to enjoy his stretch as he found another towel swatting him in the side of the head, another one Alice had miraculously pulled from no where as she stepped to stand adjacent from Rhys.

"You ready?" She asked as she took her stance. The strength of her body was frighteningly apparent in the way it held itself. Perfectly balanced with no tension to be seen. Her eyes completely focused as if the world didn't exist in this moment, and it was only her and Rhys.

Rhys lowered himself, doing his best to mimic her exact stance. He slowed down his breathing, as he too focused. The hairs on his arms stood on end in a prickle of goosebumps, as he relaxed his shoulders and dug his heels into the dirt below him as he grounded himself.

"Always."

A/N: Just a small chapter this time you guys. Regardless, it was a little insight into Alice's family. What did you think about Rhys' hallucination/vision? What could it possibly mean? Does it mean anything? Who knows! Oh wait... I do :P

As always: Thanks for reading ^-^