(John, second from left -- Duke, 3rd from Left)
(Trick Ref --- Tennessee Ref)
The stars were bright.
Out here, they were always bright. Even with the fire burning so high, it didn’t diminish the shine of the stars against the blackened night sky. It was night like this, laying on the cold, hard ground, swathed in blankets with her saddle under her head and her hat over her eyes, that Tennessee liked most.
“Hey, Nessee, how far you reckon it is to town?”
Well, she liked most of it.
Tennessee turned her head slightly to the side, one gloved hand reaching up to shift her hat across her face. Beside her, hunched over the fire and poking at it despondently with a half charred stick was a small girl, nearly half the size of Tennessee herself. The girl’s name was Trick, and she was a stray that Tennessee and John had picked up in the last town. Or rather, the girl had run into them and clung like a barnacle and refused to let go. Tennessee wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it; on one hand, she disliked children. On the other, Trick had a fire about her that was admirable. And she reminded Tennessee of herself at that age.
Still, the girl could be annoying sometimes, especially now, when she was supposed to be asleep.
“John.” Tennessee kicked the boots of the man who was lying perpendicular to her. With a grunt, John nearly rolled off his saddle-gone-pillow, and snorted awake. His bleary eyes peered out from beneath his hat, and for a moment, he seemed disoriented before he focused his gaze on Tennessee. And scowled.
“What d’ya want?” he demanded, his voice rough from sleep.
“How far at the next town?”
“S’at what you woke me fer?” John grumbled, snuggling deeper under his blanket, and rolled onto his side, facing away from the fire and Tennessee. “Bout a day’s ride. Now shaddup and get at sleep.” with a grunt, he readjusted his hate and closed his eyes.
Tennessee peeked out from the edge of her hat, on brown-silver eye watching Trick as she digested the information. “Best do as he says,” she rumbled, pulling her blankets up to her chin. Just outside of the campfire, she could hear the horses’ hooves stomping lazily on the ground, the steady crunch of their grass as they grazed on the sparse shrubbery and vegetation. “Gon’ be a long ride t’morra.” Yep, it sure was. Especially when the damn kid had to ride behind her the whole way. She was always asking annoying question, and Ol’ Blackie didn’t appreciate the chatter. Neither did Tennessee.
“A’right,” Trick muttered, fingering her dirty brown hair and rubbing her cheek with the heel of her hand. She tossed the stick onto the fire, crawling over towards her blanket and wrapping herself up in it like a burrito. She was using the pack horse’s saddle for a pillow and some extra comfort, and she snuggled into it and closed her eyes.
Tennessee huffed out a soft breath, closing her eyes and readjusting her hat to cover them. The steady crackling of the fire, and the howling of a pack of Sahound in the distance were her prairie lullaby as she drifted off to sleep.
Yep, it was nights like these that she loved the most.