Cat was standing alongside her engineer as the walls of the newest building in the village went up. When the rope dragging up the stones slipped, she rushed in and helped keeping the platform steady, muscles straining against gravity. Her combat record was still far from sterling. But she had found out that sometimes heroes were not born on the battlefield. Sometimes heroes were born by their deeds, doing the best for the people they were supposed to protect. I was a startling, new revellation in her way of thinking. Maybe she should sit down at the porch of the tavern, and contemplate it with a fresh, foaming mug of beer. She knew some would say that was inappropriate. She also knew she could not care less about what others thought. Her path in life was becoming clear to her, finally. She knew what to do.