"You reach the end o' the line, femme..." he muttered in a thick accent. "Unless of course..." he said suggestively, running one hand over her ample bodice.

Struggling violently, she spit in his eye.

"Rather die!" she swore.

"Then, die you will." he promised shortly. "Too bad, sha`... you was a pretty one... but, now... you gator bait. Your strong heart will serve me well... in my cauldron." he said, walking off.

"Mayrd! Damn il à l'enfer saint!" she swore in french.

Sighing, she willed herself to calm down so her transformation could work properly. She'd been too frustrated before... for whatever reason, it didn't wanna work, and that scared the living daylights out of her...

She became as serene as possible under the circumstances, feeling the mucky swamp water rising up around her, and suddenly there was no girl in the bonds staked to the ground! There was a large, majestic hawk in the center!

Flying off, the hawk went to a little houseboat in the midst of the Bayou and picked up a little dog, flying off with it...

~*~

"Lookee at that, Clem!" a hunter shouted to his buddy.

"Goh, did'cha ever see such a sight?! A hawk carryin' off a pup!" Clem responded, looking into the sky, sheilding his eyes as if the bright sunlight of the afternoon was making him see visions.

"Now, that would make a trophy!"

"I saw it first!"

"Well, we'll just see who's hounds get it!"

They both shot, and the hawk ducked and weaved as much as she could, until she was finally grazed in the wing.

Letting out an utterly terrifying screech, she made for the dense trees of the forrest and lit down as gently as possible.

The hawk lay on the ground and melted back into a woman. A woman who's eyes were closed and arm was bleeding. The pup lay on her belly, howling pitifully. She tried bravely to snarl when the two bloodhounds and their masters approached, but had no need, as a young man on a horse fired a shot into the air, making them back off as he stepped between them.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking the woman over carefully.

"Dunno... we just found her like this... We was huntin' a hawk..."

"Yeah, but we'll take her just as---"

"Like hell you will!" he snapped, lifting her carefully onto his horse.

He couldn't understand it, but he felt strangely protective over this woman...

"Mmmm..." she moaned as he lifted her up and slipped the pup into his saddle-bag.

"Let's go..." he whispered, slipping up behind her and spurring his horse on...

~*~

About an hour later, when they stopped to rest and eat, she looked over at him sideways as he was bandaging up her arm.

"Not too bad, just a flesh-wound..." he said.

"Oui, very lucky..." she murmured in her thick cajun accent.

"I think after all this we oughtta introduce ourselves proper..." he smiled. "I'm JD Dunne."

"Rosemary Devaroux." she said, shaking his hand with her good one. "Where are we? The desert?"

"Hardly... This here's Four Corners..."

"Four Corners..." she mused silently to herself. Ay, mon dieu! This could be what her vision meant...