[MillietheWarrior]

(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.

[MillietheWarrior]

The ride into town the next day was hot.

Hot and annoying.

Tennessee was glad that trick was keeping her mouth shut. She wasn’t in any mood to listen to the girl’s chatter. The two horses plodded along, the pack horse led by John. The heat was nearly unbearable, and it didn’t help Tennessee much that she was wearing a thick overcoat. She managed to nudge Trick back far enough to struggle out of the sleeves and swing the coat over Ol’ Blackie’s rump, leaving her in the pale, button up shirt underneath. She rolled up her sleeves as the town came ou8t of sight, thankful her chest was small enough for her to continue to pass as a man even without her coat.

The town they were headed to was far enough out west that it was difficult for any kind of discernable law-enforcing folk to get a foothold. Sure, there was a sheriff here and there, but it didn’t meant it made a difference. These types of outposts were where the tough were tested and the weak got trampled. Tennessee and John would have to have their guard up, and as for Trick…well, it’d be best if she didn’t get out of their sight.

“That the town?” Trick whispered into Tennessee’s ear. The older woman could feel Trick’s fingers tightening on her shirt, and nodded slowly.

“Yessir. It is indeed. Best not wander too far now, ya hear? You stick with me ‘er John. I ain’t gonna go gettin’ you outta any trouble you manage to get yerself inta.”

“Oh…kay.”

Tennessee dipped her hat down over her eyes, shielding them from the sun as they plodded into the dusty old town. Beside her, John lifted his head and tilted it towards her in a silent signal and Tennessee nodded back.

As they guided their horses down the dusty street, they noticed a fair few faces out and about. At this time of day, most people would be inside to escape the heat. Even in a town so far from any real civilization, they still had the comforts of cool water and cool air, which was a mite bit more than the dusty roads offered. As the three travelers steered their horses towards one of the saloons, they noticed a man with dark hair and vibrant, glowing blue eyes watching them from down the road. He was sitting in a chair beneath a porch, a shotgun leaning along his shoulder and his hat obscuring the top of his head from view. He looked young, but well-worn, and the bright, golden star, battered with age and wear, marked him as the lawman of this town.

Tennessee ignored his stare and hopped down from her horse. She reached up to haul Trick down after her and set the young girl down on the ground beside her as she began to tend to her horse. She carefully stepped around the back of Ol’ Blackie, running her hand over his rump, and settled herself at the side of his saddle. John was right behind her, the two of them pinned in and obscured by the large bodies of their horses.

“What do ya reckon bout that one?” Tennessee asked quietly, adjusting the straps on her saddle.

John pretended to fiddle with one of his stirrups. “Must be the sheriff round here. Reckon if we don’t cause him no trouble, he’ll oblige us with the same courtesy. You stay sharp, pard’ner. And keep yer eye on Trick. That girl ain’t as world-wise as you.” He shot her a smirk over his shoulder, and Tennessee scowled.

“Yeah, yeah. You jes’ watch yer back, a’right?”

[MillietheWarrior]

Newcomers.

Interlopers.

Threats.

Duke flicked the brim of his hat with his finger, watching the three travelers who had rolled into town tend to their horses. Two men, one smaller than the other, and a young girl. He wondered what their relations to one another was; that little man looked awfully feminine. Duke was sure if he ever brought that up in a casual conversation, there’d would be bloodshed.

A frown smile curled over his face.

This town couldn’t afford to have any newcomers. Somethin’ fishy was going on in the next outpost over, and although Duke was aware of it, he wasn’t sure what it was quite yet. They’d heard reports of a lot of people dying of some unknown disease. A messenger from the outpost had arrived only late last night, and he’d brought some frightening, and baffling news. Something about the dead being reanimated and walking about.

The messenger had been pretty hysterical and was sporting a large wound on his leg, so Duke and the other townsfolk hadn’t put much stock into any of it. He’d chalked it up to shock from blood loss and the fact that the outpost near them had been decimated by a weird disease. Nonetheless, Duke wasn’t taking any chances, and he’d ordered the man to be quarantined and observed,  lest he spread the sickness to someone else. It sounded a bit like the black plague, from what he could gather. He didn’t think ‘getting up and walking’ after they’d died was real, and neither did anyone else, but the fact remained that people were sick, and they couldn’t let this spread and make other people sick.

Newcomers brought the risk of the disease. He didn’t think they were form the next outpost over; they looked more like weary, ragged travelers. He wasn’t particularly worried. This, he knew, he could handle.

Hiking up his shotgun, Duke rose from his chair, and started making his way to the saloon. Time to make sure these ‘newcomers’ didn’t stir up any trouble.

'Cuz trouble was something Duke wouldn’t have.

Not in his town.

[MillietheWarrior]

Duke got about halfway to the saloon before he was accosted.

He turned to see the town doctor running towards him at a good clip. Considering the man was quite old, he was rather surprised that he could move so fast. Readjusting his grip on his weapon, he turned to see the wild eyes of Jim O’Malley, who had taken up resident as the town’s only physician naught but five years back. “Hey thar, Jim,” Duke greeted easily, raising one hand. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Damn straight, somethins’ wrong!” the doctor shouted, gesticulating wildly with his arms. “Sheriff, that man that done come in yesterday…he’s dead. Or at least, he was.” The doctor looked confused for a moment, the frantic, panicked look in his eyes receding.

Duke blinked. “What d’ya mean ‘was’? You can't be dead and then not.”

“No, no!” the doctor continued, grabbing onto Duke’s hand so hard, he could’ve sworn he heard his bones creak. “He died. Last night. He had a fever, burnin’ up. He was moaning, tossin’ and turnin’ and then he just keeled over. Thought he was good an’ dead. Didn’t breathe, didn’t move, nothin’! Then…then bout ten minutes later, when I was gettin’ ready to call the mortician, he dun…he dun got up! Just up! Started movin’ and growlin’ and makin’ all kinds of unholy racket! Plumb near scared me out of my mind! He grabbed at me, bit me, tried to drag me to him, but I kicked him in the mouth and I locked him in the clinic!”

The doctor was breathing heavily by the time he finished his story and Duke was staring down at him with wide eyes. “He just….doc, that can’t happen. I think maybe you been up too long. You get enough sleep? You ain’t hittin’ the bottle again, are ya?” Duke squinted at the doctor closely, adjusting his grip on his rifle as the doctor took a frantic step back.

“I ain’t touched the stuff in damn near a month!” O’Malley shouted, waving his arms frantically. A few of the townsfolk were watching them curiously, but didn’t seem inclined to come closer. They figured it was just the sheriff, talking down another of the doctor’s crazy rantings and ravings. He did that at least once every two months, after he’d been drinking. “I’m tellin’ ya, God damn it, he just got up! Got up and started walkin’! God help us all, Duke, lookit my leg!”

The doctor shoved his leg outward and yanked up what Duke now realized was a very blood pant leg. “I come right to you after it happened, Sherriff. He ain’t in his right mind. I don’t know what to do. We can’t let him go ‘round bitin’ people like that! He’ll kill somebody! God, he’s dead.” The doctor ran a shaking hand over his face, wiping frantically at his eyes. “Dead, dead, an’ he just started walkin’…”

Duke frowned, a crease forming between his browns. “I don’t really figure we can let him go round bitin’ people. But doc, you lay off the drink. I don’t need none o’ the townsfolk hearin’ bout some corpse gettin’ up and walkin’, ya hear?” The doctor hesitated, but then nodded quickly, and grabbed Duke’s arm.

“Come with me, Sherriff. You’ve got to take a look at him.”

[MillietheWarrior]

“Shit.”

Duke could see, through the little window that led into the observation room, the man from the second outpost.

His skin was blotchy and pale, his mouth covered in the doctor’s blood. His eyes were glassed over, no longer alive and seeing, and Duke suddenly decided that maybe the doctor was right.

Maybe this man…was dead.

“I don’t…know,” he said at last as the man behind the door threw himself at it for a fourth time. There was blood spattering the tiny observation window, and Duke flinched each and every time the sickening crack of a body against wood boomed inside the room.

“See?” the doctor said, sitting down heavily in his chair. Duke turned to glance at him, noting that he was…very pale. His breathing sounded a little labored, and as he reached for a bottle of whiskey and a well-used glass on his desk, his hands shook frantically.

“You…all right doc?”

The doctor ran a hand through his hair, pouring a glass of whiskey and downing it in a single gulp. He turned a wry smile onto the sheriff, and each breath seemed to be getting more and more difficult to come by as the minutes ticked by.

“Right as rain, sheriff.” He raised his empty glass in a mock salute, before he refilled it. Duke watched him a moment longer, before the sickening crack of a body against the door made him jump. He turned to study the man behind it, and frowned.

“Listen. I want ya to observe this…this…thing. Find out the best way to look after it. Or kill it. Or whatever the hell we’re gonna have at do to get rid of it.” He took his hat off, fanning his face with it as he watched the thing behind the glass scrabble at the door like a wild animal trying to reach it’s meal. “And don’t let it out. Fer god’s sake, whatever you do…don’t let the damn thing loose.”

Duke turned on his heel, boots clicking across the hard wood floor as the doctor rose from his seat. “Where are you going, sheriff? What are you going to do about this?” He gestured to the door behind him, his other hand gripping his glass so tight, it looked like it might shatter.

“Way I figure it, that…thing came from the outpost ten miles down the road. Reckon they must be in some big trouble if they’re dealin’ with…that. Gonna form myself a posse, and we’re gonna go take a look at what’s goin’ on. Maybe we can help ‘em. We can’t let this…sickness spread. It’s dangerous.” He gestured to the doctor’s leg with his shotgun. “Ya’ll keep some antibiotics on that wound, doc. Don’t let it get infected. I don’t want ya ta end up like him.”

Duke turned and strode out the door.

Behind him, the doctor’s shaking hand shattered his glass of whiskey.

[MillietheWarrior]

“Whiskey,” Tennessee grunted, leaning heavily on the bar and folding her arms over one another. Her long coat was slung over her shoulder, the dirty, tattered ends trailing the floor. Beside her, Trick was nervously swiveling back and forth on a barstool, her eyes traveling over the crowded saloon. Tennessee glanced towards her, watching the young girl carefully, as though worried she might bolt, before the heavy ‘thunk’ of a bottle and two glasses brought her attention back to the bar.

“Yer whiskey, sir,” the bartender rumbled, and Tennessee grunted in acknowledgement as she slammed a couple of coins onto the counter.

“Thanks,” she responded dryly, making no effort to correct the misinterpretation of her gender.

After a few moments, and a few downed glasses of the strong liquor, John reappeared from the crowd he’d vanished into, a trouble looked brewing on his face. His partner turned just in time to catch sight of him, and raised a hand wearily in welcome. “What did ya find out?” Tennessee murmured, even as Trick leaned in to catch snippets of their conversation.

“There’s been a few rumors, hereabouts. Somethin’ bout a disease or a sickness ‘er somethin’. No one seems at know much about it. Reckon it’s jus’ a story the locals been tellin’ one another to spook themselves and pass th’ time. I don’t think it’s anythin’  we should be worryin’ about. But just in case, we’ll keep an eye out fer anythin' about it.” He leaned around Tennessee and took the second glass, filling it with the dark, amber liquid from the bottle. “Also heard a bit about the local sherriff.”

“You mean that man that was watchin’ us when we dun rode inta town?” Trick asked quietly, her voice hardly carrying above the din of the crowded bar.

John rubbed his chin, his dark brows furrowing over his darker eyes, a glint of pale gold visible beneath the shadows of his hat. “Yes indeed. Heard he dun come into not but five months past. They say he’s been cleanin’ up these parts, makin’ ‘em safe fer travelers. Guess we have him ta thank that we didn’t run inta no outlaws. But I can’t help but wonder if’n we shouldn’ta stopped here.”

“You think he might suspect us of somethin’?” Tennessee asked, thinking about the various wanted posters she’d seen with her face all over the towns they’d passed through, and the fact that John’s face had started appearing on posters only a few short weeks after that. If the sheriff suspected something, then he hadn’t made a move yet. But if he did, they could most likely expect him to seek them out soon.

“Maybe,” John drawled, taking a long drink from his glass and slamming it on the bar. He drew a silver packet from his pocket and flicked it open, pulling a self-rolled cigarette from it and using a match to light it. A trail of smoke wound up in front of him, curling above their heads and adding to the stifling aura of the saloon. “Can’t say fer sure. One thing’s fer certain, ain’t no one here recognized me. So I don’t think them posters have gotten this far. We kin thank our lucky stars fer that one.”

Trick had remained unusually quiet, tugging at the hem of her dark dress, playing with the tie at her waist. Nessee slanted her a curious look, but didn’t comment on her lack of chatter. She found it rather nice that the girl was finally starting to quiet down and cease her endless talking. “You don’t think he has th’ wanted lists, ‘er somethin’?” Trick finally asked, drawing John’s attention as well. “Like, them lists they dun started mailin,’ ya know, the ones that have ever’ wanted person on ‘em?”

“Why Trick-” Nessee laughed, tilting her head back and eyeing the girl with keen amusement. “-ya thinkin’ ya might be on thar? You ain’t done nothin’ kid. Yer prolly safer here then we are. If’n he has one o’ them lists, he ain’t come after us yet, so don’t fret none. As fer me, I’m thinking’ a bath an’ a bed sounds mighty good right now.”

Trick nodded nervously, her eyes glued to the floor and the tips of her dark boots that peeked out from beneath her dusty, dirty skirt. She reached up to fiddle with the cross that hung around her neck, and Tennessee was about to ask what had her so jumpy when the swinging doors of the saloon suddenly swung inwards to admit a tall, imposing figure. Nessee’s mouth snapped shut instantly as the sheriff stepped into the saloon, his shotgun clenched tightly in his fist.

Duke  let his blue gaze rove over the patrons of the bar, taking stock in who was there and who wasn’t. Many of the faces, if not all of them, were familiar to him. Even the three drifters that had tumbled into town were familiar as well. He could’ve sworn he’d seen them before, but for the life of him, he wasn’t quite sure where to place their faces. Deciding that figuring out who the outsiders were would have to take a backseat to the task and problem at hand, he walked into the bar, his boots clacking loudly on the floor in the sudden, still silence of the bar.

A hush had fallen over the crowd, unused to seeing their demure, even-tempered sheriff joining in the bar scene. Duke didn’t visit the saloon unless there was some sort of trouble brewing, outside or in, and to see him standing in the door, gun cocked, hat pushed back and eyes steely made a shudder of anticipation sweep through the crowd.

“Listen up!” Duke suddenly shouted, and the entire bar seemed to flinch in unison. Nessee nudged John, her hand falling to her belt. He shook his head imperceptibly, waiting carefully to see what this man wanted. “I’m formin’ a posse. Looks like there’s been some trouble up north at the next outpost over. I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but there’s been somethin’ brewin’ up there that merit’s checkin’ out. Only those who ain’t got no family ties and own their own gun kin come along. This ain’t some kinda vacation, fellas. I don’t rightly know what we’ll be runnin’ into or havin’ ta face there, or on the way, but I kin tell ya that it ain’t good. I’m takin’ volunteers only.” He carefully moved his gun to rest against his hip, his eyes sweeping over the crowd.

“So…Any takers?”

[ShadowStitches]

Yvaine

Lester
(human forms coming soon)

They had been here in Town for 4 days now. And they gathered as little information on the lost boy as in the town before,and the town before...and the other 3 towns before that. The Teen seemed to just have been swallowed by the endless flat lands. Lester sighed, examining the surface of the rough table in front of him
closely. "we should just give up. We've been searching for what? weeks?" "ah...2 weeks and 3 days" said the young woman sitting across from him sweetly "thats not that long, Les. Whats wrong?" he just gave her an unwilling growl and a annoyed stare from under the brim of his hat, not going to discuss this any further. Yvaine seemed to actually like it here. or at least, she did not seem to mind the environment much. Lester on the other hand already was annoyed by just about everything. They did not fit in. and people around here did not seem to like strangers that much, which didn't make their task to find a run-away easier. However, the payment they would get for this, and partly already got, was just too good to turn the offer down.

Lester finally looked up, first letting his gaze drift through the saloon, then looking at his partner again.
"seriously? I am afraid our boy is dead. 2 or 3 weeks alone out there...Even if he was born around here,if he did not come by any of the closer towns now and then..." Yvaine shook her head slightly "lets just stay one more week.Maybe we'll at least find a clue...besides, our client did not look like he would take such an information too good" His glare got even darker, but he did not protest. he was sick of the whole case, but Yvi was right, he just did not like this case at all. "damn, I'd run away with a father like that too."

with that, the two strangers fell silent again. Yvaine turned her head towards the bar to examine the people around there carefully. She thought to herself that their 'disguises' where not that bad. Lester wore dark pants,a dusty gray-ish beige shirt, a brown vest and, of course, a hat. she herself chose some simple pants too, a dark brown shirt and a gray jeans jacket. maybe that was a little bit too modern for around here, but it was very hard to tell really. Before she could think any longer about her wardrobe, her attention was
caught by  a group of people at the bar. She couldn't put her finger on it, but these guys looked familiar. Lester also risked a glance or two while toying with the the empty glass he held in his hands, furrowing his brow slightly.    

The entry and announcement of the sheriff however distracted them from their examination. Yvi through a quetioning look towards Lester. She knew when he pulled something into consideration, and simply asked
quietly "Why?" "well..." Lester cleared his throat slightly "I think this could get very interesting. Maybe it could get a little light into our lost boy story" She only looked at him perplex "that's bullsh*t, you're just happy
that something exiting is happening" Lester shook his head "no. you know that I'm not the adventurous type if I can avoid it" "well we can avoid it pretty easily" "hear me out. We have not found anything of our boy, at all.
most likely he ran into trouble. and now this Sheriff guy comes in here and tells us about some sort of incident or whatnot at an outpost" he raised his eyebrows "couldn't it be that the boy was stopping by there, on the way to town? only that he never got here?" Yvi looked still unconvinced "don't you think that's a little far fetched?"
"maybe.but it could also be a lead" She decidet to not question him further. she trusted the man, he usually had some sort of 6th sense in these kind of things. She however did not like the whole situation. not at all."Okay Les...i hope you're right..."  Lester smiled a smug, but re-assuring smile, before standing up and looking at Duke. "Here. We're coming with you" he stated simply, looking him straight in the eye. He seemed confident, and almost daring him to question their motive. He figured however that the Sheriff would take
about any volunteer without much questioning, as long as they did not seem dangerous.

(ungh...I hope this is okay.
also, the two almost recognizing John and Tennessee is because, like i said, they went arround the towns a little, and most likely stumbled upon wanted posters. however, even when they eventually remember, i think they have enough to do with running for their lives and trying to figure out what's going on then to point it out to Duke (if he wont recognize them himself already ). hope thats alright^^')

[Kitsumi]

((I didn't see a specific posting order yet...so I'm figuring it's alright to post now? Also, Gunner will probably come in right before they leave, or right after, if that's fine?))

Russell Boehmer :: Kevin Boehmer

"C'mon, now, Russ." Kevin gazed fondly at his twin brother, who was shuffling his feet and examining the clouds of dust that he kicked up as he walked. "I'm thirsty; the saloon ain't that far. Let's stop by and have us a drink, huh, brother?"

Lifting his head slightly, Russell grinned. "Yeah...I wanna drink too. But not that nasty stuff you drink. It's too bitter. Just let me have a water, okay, Kevin?" His big, trusting blue eyes, incredibly different in hue than Kevin's, shone as he smiled. "And I don't want to stay there for a long time. It's hot, and it's dusty. I just want a quick drink and then we can go home. Right, Kevin? We'll just stop for a drink and then go home?"

Kevin nodded. "Sure thing, Russ. Just a quick drink to stop our thirst, and then we'll go right home." Little did he know that their plans were going to change drastically.

Before they could even enter the saloon, the twins were stopped by the sheriff's words. Russell didn't seem to think anything of it, trying to tug on Kevin's hand to  entice him to brush past the sheriff to get Russell's promised water. Kevin, on the other hand, seemed quite a bit more concerned by what he heard. The next outpost? Why, that's where ma and pa were goin'. If there's some sort of trouble brewin' over there, they might be hurt, or in some sorta trouble.

Without really thinking about it, Kevin raised his hand, tugging Russell with him. "Sheriff? Russell and I will go. Russell won't be able to do much, since he's...well, you know. But I can't jus' leave him here, and I reckon that I gotta go and make sure our parents are alright."

[Code Chaos]

Ash Lockheart

Ash was sitting in the saloon drinking away his sorrows when he saw the sheriff walk through the twin swinging doors. He had only been on his second drink so he could see that something was wrong by the expression on his face. He mentioned about something wrong at the next outpost. He swigged the last of his drink and said, "I'll go sheriff. I'm handy with a gun so if there's any shooting involved I'll be handy." He wasn't usually one to volunteer to help out, or even to socialize much. But it wasn't like he had anything more to lose, and he was missing the action he had seen as a police chief back in the big town where he used to live. Maybe this would bring the spark back to his life that he had been looking for at the bottom of the whiskey bottle.

[MillietheWarrior]

“What d’ya think, Nessee?”

Trick was wringing her hands nervously in her skirt, watching the proceedings with dark toffee eyes. “Nessee?” she inquired again when the small woman-gone-man didn’t answer her.

Nessee resolutely kept her back to the scene going on behind her, hat tipped forward to shade her eyes. She hunched her shoulder, purposefully ignoring both john’s and Trick’s stares. John was the old one in their little gang, and it was true that he was the nearest thing Nessee had to a father, but when the cards were laid out on the table, it was Tennessee who called the shots.

“What?” she finally growled. “Ya think we got some sorta stock in this? I ain’t puttin’ my neck on the line fer some idjits who think it’s a good idea ta go stickin’ their noses inta other people’s business. Let ‘em ride out ‘n get themselves kilt. I ain’t takin no part in it.”

“Suit yerself,” John said, knocking back another shot of the fiery whiskey. “But I’ma hankerin’ fer some adventure, and I don’t reckon I’ll find none ‘round here. Been a while since I got out an’ stretched muh legs.” He rubbed his whiskered chin bemusedly, a faint smile curling up beneath his salt and pepper moustache.

Trick watched the two nervously, her fingers fiddling with her skirt. “If-if Mr. Marston is going, then so am I,” she declared, though her voice lacked conviction. John shot her an amused look, and raised his hand, catching the attention of the sheriff. “Reckon my little girl and I will be comin’ along. We was headin’ that way anyway.”

Tennessee muttered something under her breath, and slumped further into her glass.

The Sherriff’s dark blue eyes roved over his volunteers, and he seemed as though he wanted to protest when a few voices were raised, but all in all, he imagined this bunch was the best he was going to get. Now he just had to make sure they were all armed. “All right then,” He boomed, shouting above the now noisily gossiping crowd. “Reckon it’s time we get goin’. If’n ya’ll don’t have horses, then the local Ferrier will be providin’ them fer ya. Anyone who is goin,’ follow me.:

He promptly turned and marched out of the saloon, heading to the local stables where he was met with a nervous-eyed Ferrier, hammer in hand and a cloth in another. He dabbed at his neck with the cloth, and Duke could see his hesitation. “We’ll be needin’ some horses now, Wallace,” Duke said quietly, and he turned to address the volunteers from the saloon. “Some of yer faces ain’t all too familiar to me, so I ‘magin’ ya’ll don’t live round here. The name is Duke, and I’m the local sheriff around these parts.” He attached his shotgun to a belt around his shoulders, and swung it behind his back. “If ya got yer own horses, then now’s the time ta get ‘em. If not, go on in an’ pick one out.” without further pomp or circumstance, Duke strode into the barn, pass the fidgeting Ferrier, and stopped at a large, chestnut stallion, already saddled and bridled among the other horses. “Reckon it’s time fer a run, eh, Dollar?” Duke asked his mount, patting the horse’s muzzle. “Alright, saddle yer horses and let’s git goin’,” he instructed, even as he opened the padlock to Dollar’s stall and led the big stallion from the barn.

John had followed the group curiously, but when he was told to retrieve his horse, he shot Trick a look. “Best you go get a horse of yer own. Don’t reckon Tennessee would want you takin’ hers.” He turned and walked across the road to a dusty looking Buckskin tied to a hitching post, and swung gracefully up into the saddle even as trick bustled past the crowd and into the barn. She chose a small, dainty brown appaloosas mare with a docked tail, working with diligent and quick hands to saddle and bridle the horse and lead her out of the barn, swinging up into the saddle herself in a rather undignified manner befitting someone wearing a skirt.

---

((Oc: you guys can take liberties with your horses; just do what you like with them, or make them any gender color or whatever. They’re basically a means to get to the next town.))

[ShadowStitches]

//that was easy// Lester thought, when he and Yvaine followed the group out of the Bar. He honestly thought that there would have to be some convincing words towards Duke, but he would not complain. Yvaine had to bite her lip slightly to hide her grin at the impression on Lester's Face, when they walked towards the Stallion. He was...well...not suited for horses, as he put it. Over the past 2 weeks, he mustered himself to a rather average rider, but he did not really enjoy it.

They had two leased horses when they came into town, But they maybe already where returned or leased to someone else when they entered the Stallion. After a short moment of considering, Yvaine picked a white and
light caramel Paint Horse. She was not too used to saddle horses, but managed to do it rather quickly. After Leading her Horse out of the barn, who was sniffing her hair curiously all the way out, she finally swung herself into her saddle and smirked happily. She was surprised to see Lester already sitting on his horse of choice, a dark gray Morgan, which seemed to be slightly nervous, tilting its ears sideways and then back to the front again, but keeping calm aside from that.

Lester threw a look from his horse back to the saloon. He was surprised that that one girl was not coming with them, he pictured the three people at the bar as a group. he shrugged it off and focused on the others around him. They where an interesting group indeed. he had an eye particularry on the twins. One of them had a clear leading role, while the other...well, he only got a short glimpse on him, but what he could say was that he was much more timid.  

While they waited for the others to get ready, Yvaine slowly came a little closer to Lester, looking a little concerned. "Hey Les... what if there really is something...bad going on out there?" Lester raised one eyebrow"did you not listen to the sheriff? I think he wont form a posse to ride out just for the fun of it" "I did not mean that" the girl huffed, obviously annoyed "I mean, what if there is something so bad that we cant...you know...control it." Lester tilted his head slightly "hey. if you're afraid, then stay here. I can..." "no!. no. just-forget about it. I'm fine...just throwing my thoughts out there"      

[Kitsumi]

Luckily, Kevin and Russell had their own horses near by. Kevin knew that Russell would never be able to ride any horse but Lady, his cremello mare. She had been a rescue horse, and despite her harsh treatment from earlier in her life, was as sweet and docile as any horse Kevin had ever seen. She seemed to understand the need to be gentle with Russell, and even when at a full gallop took the utmost of care with her rider.

Kevin hurried over to fetch the horses, helping Russell get situated in his own saddle before heaving himself onto his own, sorrel mare, Penny. "Hope you got good and refreshed, girl," Kevin spoke fondly to his mount, patting her neck in an affectionate way. "Because this might be a long ride."

He glanced over at Russell, making sure that his brother wasn't in one of his 'moods'. Thank their lucky stars, Russell seemed to be calm and level-headed today. He was sitting upright in a very professional manner, showing that despite his oddities, he could still behave like any other person when he felt like it. Lady seemed to bring the best out of him, anyways. He had never had any trouble riding her, and seemed to handle her like a pro. Of course, it was more likely that Lady was the one handling him.

Kevin looked over towards the sheriff, waiting for some sort of signal or word that would let him know what was coming next.

~~~~~     ~~~~~     ~~~~~     ~~~~~     ~~~~~

Garrett "Gunnar" Kolt

Meanwhile, right outside of town, Gunnar wiped his chocolate-colored hand across his sweaty brow. "Man, ain't gonna make it much further if I don't get some sort of beverage in me. Preferably something with a damn high concentration of alcohol.

To his surprise, Gunner suddenly found himself in the midst of several people all mounting horses. "Hey, where's your guys' sheriff, or deputy, or whatever they call it?" Gunnar held his gun nonchalantly with one hand, in a way that seemed nonthreatening enough. Of course, anyone who really knew Gunnar knew that he could go from casual to lethal in a matter of seconds, if it even took him that long. "And what are you all doing gathered here? Some sort of rodeo in town today or somethin'?"

[Code Chaos]

Ash already knew that by horse was the only transportation out here in the middle of nowhere. He had already bought one a couple of years back. His name was Slade he was a white stallion with a black mane. He was a good horse always took Ash where he needed to go. He walked over to the fence where he tied up Slade untied him and got on his saddle.