Robin knew him by his size, by his wild hair, by the faint hitch in his step. It was all but legend that one of his legs was bitten off by some beast or other and a new one was fashioned out of metal and magic by a wizard who owed Strike his life. She had thought he might not live up to his reputation, but it seemed he fit it almost perfectly.
Almost, because Robin had often thought she might well run the other way if she ever met him- but instead her cheeks felt warm, and though her heart stuttered in her chest it didn't feel like fear, not at all.
They always make a good team.
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