Dusty could feel the force of the wind as it batted at his protective armor.; With his all encompassing shell on, he could neither feel the cold of the storm, or hear the wind as it whipped by him. He’d turned on his internal heating system and turned off his audio. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, and he whistled cheerfully, tunelessly, as he surged through the snow, holding the reins of a fidgety and excitable Riopath that plowed along beside him. Dusty was not fond of the Riopath. It was too twitchy and skittish and he was certain that at the slightest sign of trouble, the silly beast would spook and be off before he could catch it. The creature raised it’s head and snorted, and Dusty looked over his armored shoulder at the bundle it carried, casting his gaze over the woman wrapped in the blankets and silks sitting high on the saddle. He turned back to the Riopath, and placed a hand on it’s neck. “Easy there, darlin’. Ain’t no need for all that fidgetin’. Yer just gonna make more trouble fer me.”
The creature eyed him derisively, it’s breath coming out in great, gasping clouds as it snorted again. He could see the whites of it’s eyes; it was frightened of the storm. With the wind howling and whipping through the bare tress of the high mountains, everything looked like ‘danger’ to the beast. Dusty silently cursed the fact that he was the one chosen for this ‘special mission.’ Also known as, ‘the mission none of his brothers wanted and forced on him.’ When asked to ‘escort’ an ambassador through the wilds of Basantha, Dusty was extremely leery of the job. After all, who just traversed the wilderness with only one man for protection? But the woman had been adamant about having ‘protection’ for some reason or another. Or at least, her boss insisted that his boss send someone to protect her. This just seemed like a waste of time. But Dusty did as he was told, and he did it with a smile, a song, and a spring in his step. Not that any of those was visible, audible, or even apparent at the moment, what with the raging storm around the three compadres.
Dusty lifted his arm, the scanner on his gauntlet showing that the temperatures were rapidly dropping. The storm had started up out of the blue about an hour ago, and it had caught Dusty by surprise. The wind and the snow buffeted the small group, nearly sending the sure-footed Riopath stumbled, and taking the soldier and ambassador down with it. Dusty was beginning to worry that any longer in these temperatures would mean certain death for rider and mount. In his armor encased haven, he couldn’t feel one bit of the cold, so Dusty knew he would be fine. But a delicate woman in the middle of a snow storm? Not a good combo, he decided. He turned to glance at the bundle over his shoulder, and had to shout to be heard above the roar of the wind. “We’re gonna have to head for cover, darlin’. This ain’t no fit place fer man nor beast. And I can’t have ya catchin’ cold on me, can I?” He chuckled to himself, and then jerked on the reins of the beast beside him. It gave a low keen, and turned, it’s giant ears flicking forward as it seemed to sense they were finally heading for warmth, cover and safety.
Dusty could just make out a large structure up ahead, and the coordinates on his HUD showed they were near the shrine. That must be it. Well, it’d be as good a place to make camp as any, right? Dusty surged ahead through the snow, swinging his rifle around and over his shoulder as he went and setting the charge. As they reached the shrine, he leaned back and looped the reins over the Riopath’s neck. It lowered it’s head, sniffing at the door as Dusty pushed it open. He stepped inside first, switching to night vision as he scanned for any life forms. It was pitch black, dark, and it smelled ancient, but there was no sign of anything living within the confines of the shrine. Twisting at the waist, Dusty grabbed the Riopath’s bridle and urged it forward. With a grunt, it stepped into the darkness, it’s claws scrabbling for purchase on the cold floor. “Stay here, I’ll get a fire started for ya,” Dusty said quietly, feeling as if any noise he made in the ancient shrine would be blasphemous. He slung the rifle over his shoulder, and slowly moved about, gathering chunks of rotted wood and old pews that might have once served for masses of worshippers. Now they’d serve well enough for a small fire.
Dusty hauled his catch back over to the Riopath, and piled it nearby. Using his blaster, he sent a shot straight into the wood, lighting it immediately, and then set the rifle on the ground, before moving towards the beast. He grasped it’s bridle and lower red it’s head. The Riopath’s body followed, and like a massive camel, it sunk to the ground to allow the precious burden it carried to step off. “There ya are, darlin’,” Dusty said kindly, though it was unclear as to whether he was talking to the beast or it’s rider. “Safe an’ sound an’ warm.” he glanced at the woman. “Might wanna make yerself comfy by the fire. We ain’t gonna be goin’ nowhere anytime soon. That’s a regular ol’ devil of a storm.” He patted the Riopath’s head, stroking the creature’s silky nose as it rumbled quietly and contentedly, nuzzling his hand as he pulled a cloth from a pack at his waist and began to rub it along the creature‘s overworked body, cooling it down. He seemed far more concerned over the Riopath than the ambassador. Trust Dusty to think of an animal over a woman. Dusty paused in his work to pull a blanket from the pack at his back, and toss it to the woman. “Better wrap yerself up, darlin’. It won’t do to have ya getting’ sick now.”