To be a Commander

Meeting Crowley(different from pre-written past)

Pritchard was walking through the woods, deep in thought. 

He'd noticed some strange things about that one boy. Who was it again? Ah, yes. Crowley Meratyn.

'Silent as a ghost,' they had said. 'A good boy, he is. But strange!'

Crowley was reputed for his silent movement. Pritchard had observed him(unseen, of course) and had noticed a natural inquisitiveness and perception in the boy. Of course, he was rather temperamental. And a crazy prankster. But he was kind and never hesitated to stand up for what was right.

Crowley, of course, had seen him once. Walking down the road, Pritchard had noticed the redhead flitting from one shadow to another, silent. Well, almost. But the boy had spotted him, and instead of the fear that was usually seen, Pritchard noticed something else. 

Admiration.

Then the boy had noticed something and was off like a flash.

Now, Pritchard was walking when he sensed someone following him.

Could be anyone, he reflected. Or, it could be Crowley.

He purposefully rounded a bend and caught a slight glimpse of the boy, moving silently in the shadows. Too far away for Pritchard to grab him. But with his bow...

Pritchard dismounted and, out of the corner of his eye, watched the boy. He was cautious and had crouched in the bushes not too far away. But enough to escape.

Smart.

Without warning, Pritchard whipped around and shot an arrow at Crowley, barely hitting the boy. The redhead let out a slight yelp but instantly stifled it as Pritchard approached in three surprisingly swift strides. He backed up, but Pritchard was quicker and sent and arrow through Crowley's shirt and into a tree.

"Name?" Pritchard asked, putting on his 'interrogate the criminal' face.

Crowley's jaw twitched and he, semingly unconsciously, curled up slightly. 

Strange.

Pritchard raised his hand and Crowley flinched back, fear rearing it's ugly head in his hazel eyes. The ranger's keen eyes noted the beginning of a scar on Crowley's arm and his mind jumped to the inevitable conclusion.

Pritchard reached out and pulled out the arrow. He had to give it to the boy; his reflexes were quick. About two seconds after he'd hit the floor, Crowley was up again and against the tree, eyes wide and fearful.

"What's your name?" Pritchard asked, using a more friendly tone. Crowley bit his lip, then said softly, "Crowley Meratyn, sir."

Pritchard nodded. "Why were you following me, Crowley?" he asked. Crowley bit his lip again, then said, hesitantly, "I wanted....to see what it..was..like, sir."

Pritchard cocked his head, a sign to go on, and Crowley complied. "To be a Ranger." he said hesitantly.

Pritchard nodded calmly. "Well, would you like to take you back home?" he asked, wanting to see Crowley's reaction.

The boy's face rearranged itself into a fake picture of hope. "You...will?" he asked. "You're not going to....you know...." He wiggled his fingers in an imitation of magic.

Pritchard nodded. "If you want to stay the night and learn what it's like, you can." he said calmly. He hadn't had an apprentice in, what, five years?

Crowley's face lit up in real hope. "You'd....let me?" he asked, almost excitedly. Pritchard nodded.

Crowley beamed and he almost seemed to become taller. "Thank you, sir." he said, without hesitation.

With an excited but quiet Crowley in tow, Pritchard mentally mapped out a plan to find out about Crowley's family.

And if he found out that what he'd thought was right, he was definitely taking Crowley as an apprentice.

No one deserved abuse. No one.