[Winter - Dead Canyon]
Even the landscape seemed fed up with the scorching sun this afternoon, offering limited activity. None more than Jennings, who had begun panting like a hound. Beads of sweat were in freefall on both his and Wolf’s foreheads. The Native spoke.
“Water. It’s our best ally.”
“You ain’t gotta remind me more than once.”
The reckless criminal retrieved a goatskin canteen dangling from Poni’s side. He raised it above his arid scalp and poured the refreshment across his face and to the canyon floor.
“Ahh!”
Wolf slowed his pace. Wiping away the water, JJ replaced the goatskin and decided to tack on a pair of leather gauntlets. The mischievous outlaw reserved the fact of them being a new addition from his recent tipi plunder.
Both men darted their heads when a small trail of rocks streamed underneath a goliath boulder perched within the walls. They bounced in unison a few meters ahead of a gloomy shadow casted by the giant stone's girth, it was menacing. However when a portion of that shadow somehow retreated behind the boulder, Jennings pulled his Colt .44 and was ready to react.
"We got some lookers."
The sharp, jagged emotion in his tone acted as a warning for Wolf, yet he refused to show his LeMat revolver. The pair seemingly had differing brandishing thresholds.
Wolf’s horse balked at the commotion, yet he was able to calm the anxious creature with a stroke over its full mane. He had a way of irritating the outlaw beyond comprehension.
Unaware of where to aim, JJ’s handgun swiveled across the massive lack of light. A deep breath was his preferred path to tranquility, although he questioned its effectiveness at this time. Almost as if to provide a different dichotomy, loud rumbling roared. It wasn’t close enough to be in immediate danger range, but Wolf and J.J. allowed the booming sound to make their next choice of action for them.
“Let’s run it Poni! Wolf,” the gloved-man waved back turning on top of Poni to garner the Native’s attention before continuing, “-try to keep up.”
Poni sped up, striding in a dashing gallop through the desolate walls, continuing to shed stones and full of whisking shadows at this point. Wolf was a decent pace behind, yet still within a glance and much less hurried. That wasn’t much of a concern for Jennings however, he wanted to make it through the canyon as soon as possible.
As Poni and his riding partner ventured further along the ravine floor, it was quite simple to see why this place got its name. Life seemed like a lost memory for the steep walls that now threatened. With the local history of the Spiri grand enough to fill a library, their people experienced legendary hardship at the hands of the settlers. It was no wonder to Jennings that there’d be forgotten territory and left behind debris from tribes no longer allowed to live according to some.
JJ just needed to survive and carry on long enough to meet Clear Mind, that was his mission. So far they had outrun the few shadows they’d noticed, but after a good minute, they were now increasing in numbers and size. With the Sun’s angle already beginning to wane, darkness was becoming these hidden followers' best accomplice, and Jennings knew it.
“A fork!”
The criminal shouted. Entering his view was the last thing that the horseback duo needed- a choice. Wolf began to close the distance, yet remained mute as they approached the split in the trail. The Native knew that JJ would be more than willing to make a decision for them both.
“Right’s always right- right?”
They veered to the right along the path. Merging deeper into the Dead Canyon, their elusive pursuers gained more confidence. Strange eyeballs were shrouded, covered top-halves of faces peered from the overstaying rocks. Each bulbous protrusion of stone seemed to harbor a pair of strained whites of eyes gazing back. Poni and the Native’s horse kicked up more dust, increasing their speed further.
Chaos and strife had manifested in giant gravel form, as the previous loud noise had revealed itself as an insurmountable obstacle before them. Layered across in a beautiful, disorderly fashion, boulders dwarfing the lodged one from earlier halted the duo on horseback. Skidding to a stop, Poni looked back at Jennings, seeking an answer. J.J. looked back at Wolf, expecting an answer.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Wolf stayed stoic. Instead of giving into the outlaw’s peer pressure campaign for answers, he instead screamed with excitement in his Spiri language.
As if queued, the eyes within the canyon walls jutted out, extending upward into full vision in a sequentially eerie fashion. They revealed their Native attire, fur covering random limbs that needed warming through the Shadow Valley Desert nights. Braided hair was a common suit, with athletic frames, they shared the mannerism of their kin who’d accompanied Jennings here remaining silent and attuned.
“What did you say?”
Jennings felt the need to talk under his tone although with context it was probably unnecessary. Wolf returned the attention.
“I asked if they worship the same Spiri and dirt that we share a mind from.”
“Well that didn’t exactly produce a kind response wouldya’ say?”
Looking up, Jennings noticed that the leering Natives had grown in presence even more. Now aligned with personal gaps in between, they numbered in the hundreds atop the cliffside. Pacing back and forward, but not in contemplation, as they knew their own reasoning but just refused to share it with Jennings. No weapons drawn or threatened, just an emanating pose to establish their dominance of the current predicament.
Wolf was finally able to digest the situation.
“They are taking us.”
[Winter - Parso]
Emerging from the dark night’s obscurity was Eriko, the self-proclaimed ‘Immortal’. A man with distraught movements and an awkward limp in an every-so-often step, he shambled up a dirt road. The long overcoat worn was an insufficient attempt to hide his public insecurities.
This particular unmarked road had seen many travelers, but not as of late. Instead Eriko’s local informants detailed how the fluctuation in attendees and rumored shut down of the Rashonaru Dojo in the last few months could mean a big outlaw in town. The Immortal rarely acted in an inspired fashion, yet he figured that even if it wasn’t Jennings, it could be a valuable asset to kidnap in the meantime.
This style of thinking purveyed Eriko, who had by now already made it to the back step of J.J. Cool's dojo-style entrance. Hand extended in a fist, preparing to knock on the light-colored wooden sliding frame. Still, however, unable to make the connection. More erratic, internal dialogue hampered the attempt to announce his presence that he craved.
Without warning or even peering downward, the unwanted visitor had slid his sweeping left foot behind the other, spinning his entire rest of the body with it and heading back in the direction he emerged from. With a hurried expression, he was sweating beads after audibly exhaling with force.
As Eriko turned his shoulder to take a final glance before disappearing once more, within a closely located window frame, Penny had become aware of the details and watched the entire interaction in utter confusion and settled into fear.
She hesitated to invoke any movement that wasn’t a form of staring. Penny questioned the correctness of her inaction instantaneously, eventually deciding that it was best to maintain the distance between her and the stranger at the door. Surely with everything going on, it couldn’t have been The Immortal, she pondered, so who was it? Why did they approach with such vigor and leave without even an announcement?
No answer presented itself, so for the time she retreated within her residence to ensure her safety.
[Winter - Dead Canyon]
Wolf laughed close to his chest, peering downward. Having been given their own mules to tote in unison, the crowd of Natives had revealed some information to Skyrunner.
By this point friendly banter was being exchanged between everyone, except Jennings. The outlaw had run his mouth and raised his voice to much attention. Such attention that warrants having your feet tied and being drug behind your complementary mule.
A single passionate speaker of Spiri descent pointed at Jennings, jabbing a finger in his direction from atop the horse. Jennings stared back, unamused. With demonstrative and active palms, he covered his face with both. When he revealed it again, it had a striking resemblance to Jennings, including the lack of interest in the facial expression. Grins grew across the faces of those near like flowers blooming in season for everyone, except Jennings.
“Pretty good look’alike- I say,” said Poni for his first words amongst this party.
Silence fell sharp. Eyes darted center like a bullseye had bed focused. Massive cheers and chants erupted from the Natives escorting them. Horses prance around Poni and a parade had broken out within the condensed convoy. Poni was elated with shock, and with little convincing, he was caught in the moment.
The restrained outlaw considered handling this situation poorly. However, he reasoned better and flipped his cold, limp body around to being drug face-down instead. His mouth had been stuffed with some kind of grain stalk. Being unable to speak had just completely drained him of his energy to bark further and he felt that Poni was having fun. He went along and laughed at the Native man’s impression of himself.
Wolf added.
“They say before long, we shall be meeting Clear Mind.”
At least they were heading to see Clear Mind, Jennings thought with a scraped face.