≫ Barrow Peak │ GXB Western RP│ P

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    Barrow Peak


    Plot

    Life has never been simple, and living in the time of Gunslingers, Sheriffs and the battle between the Indigenous doesn't make life any simpler. You are a Gunslinger yourself, you're not bad, but you're no hero either. You do what you're paid to do, no matter the circumstances. You are a man on the run from the law, and you've claimed many innocent lives, but it's all for the betterment of your life, and ensuring you will have a future.

    You soon receive another task, but find yourself amidst a greater scheme that perhaps even you cannot handle. During your venture, you become lost- disorientated in the desert plains, and pass out from exhaustion. You awaken in a shack, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and you are confronted by a woman- you aren't sure of her intentions. She insists that you aid her, and perhaps a part of you feels you owe it. Little do you realize, but she is your target, and as you begin to spend more time with her, will you decide to protect her when the time comes, or will you pull the trigger?

    The story begins shortly after you awaken in her home- you are alone, but you hear that someone is around. The reaction is up to you, but all actions have a consequence. What will be yours?


    Climate

    The climate is subtropical and semi-arid. Meaning that in most sections of the landscape of this story are hot and humid in the summer, and the winters are mild, similar to the weather in Western Europe. Closer to the plains, the climate becomes semi-arid, meaning there is little to no rainfall when compared to the amount of the sunlight- and these are often considered deserts. The nights however tend to get cold, and as such you must prepare yourself. The landscape is rough, and the climate tends to fluctuate because of it, but it is often more humid within the small towns that mark the area. They are few and far apart, so gathering water and supplies is often a must.


    Rules

    1. Follow all FF Rules

    2. You may swear, but try not to have every second word a swear word

    3. No unnecessary violence ( ie. killing random civilians, etc )

    4. This is the ' Wild West ', there are no phones, tvs, etc.. Only horses, and letters, and cameras.

    5. Your character is NOT perfect, so do not make them perfect.

    6. Acting is reacting, your character must have emotions

    7. This is semi-adv. Meaning no less than one paragraph ( 5 sentences ) per post

    8. You MUST be active. Post once a day, or inform me of your absence ahead ASAP

    9. If you do not respond within 48 hours ( without informing me ) you will be removed from the thread

    10. Please try your best to have proper grammar, punctuation and spelling.


    When you post, please include a picture as well as age and name.


    The RP will begin with your post.



    Time of Day

    Approximately Noon


    Current Season / Temperature

    Summer - 27C (80.6F)



    My Character



    Pinkertons.jpg?resize=640%2C426

    Clyde Riley- 22 years

    He had been laying pretty deathly still for a long time. Pain coursed through his entire body, pain was the only thing that helped assure him he was indeed not dead, maybe dying though. The last thing he could remember was standing on gunpoint as one of the people he though he could trust forced him off his horse and robbed him blind. Slowly his eyelids fluttered and a low groan came from his lips. Where in the name of God was he? Slowly his eyes slid open and he was looking up at a patchy and old ceiling. That wasn't right...he had been alone in the desert, and this wasn't his ceiling. Sitting up suddenly he looked around wildly trying to make sense of what had happened. It took a moment for the pain to hit him again and once it did he nearly doubled over in agony.


    Glancing down at his arm where the pain was the worst he realized it was covered in a bandage which was already becoming blood soaked from his moving around. He groaned as he remembered the rest of what had happened, the shot that went into his arm thanks to his former friend. Bringing his hand up to the wound he clutched the hot wound. "Hello?" He called out cautiously his mouth drawn in a thin line as he questioned where he was and who had bandaged his arm up.


    Picture

    Marigold - 231/2 years

    __


    "There's water on the nightstand,"


    It was a female voice that responded to his- even if she didn't directly answer to his hello, it was still a response. It took a few moments before there was the gentle plod of boots on the damaged wood flooring, and a creak emitted from floorboards at door frame as she stepped into view. In her arms she carried a bucket- it seemed to have water in it. She also carried cloth, more bandages for his arm, and what looked to be bread. Walking into the room, she placed the bucket down, and dropped the cloth in it, and then laid down the bandages. Gingerly she offered him the bread, hoping he would take it.


    "You must be exhausted, poor thing."


    Despite the sympathy she seemed to be trying to give, she appeared distracted, and didn't overly focus on playing the part when it came to expressing it. She instead applied her efforts on softly taking hold of his arm, and began to undo the bandages. Clearly, he'd been giving a struggle for it to bleed, and she seemed displeased especially after she had spent so long to stop the bleeding.

    She looked similarly to an average woman, a white blouse with corset bottom, and marked pants that were dust-ridden and stained, yet the air about her was questionable- not untrustworthy but perhaps secretive. She wasn't wearing a jacket however, the leather now resting on the ground in a heap- she had laid it on top of him just to offer a bit of warmth.


    "I'm Marigold by the way, or I guess you can just call me Mari. Who are you?"


    She paused in her cleaning of his wound with the soaked cloth pressed against the wound, staring up at the man curiously. His face looked familiar- but she'd seen many people who tended to look the same... All she needed out of this was his help- and judging from the fact he was out in the desert half dead, she could assume he was the right type of person for the kind of help she was needing.





    Snapping his head towards the voice he was met with a woman, which he hadn't really expected. His eyes slid to the glass on the nightstand, not making any move towards it. Although his throat felt slimy and clammy he had just been stabbed in the back by an old friend. He wasn't sure how he felt about accepting food and water from a complete stranger. Reluctantly he moved his hand away from his arm allowing her to look at the gunshot and took the bread gingerly. Laying it on the nightstand he traded it for the water, as much as he was unsure about trusting someone at this moment his throat was so dry it was painful. As the water hit his lips he felt much better, it didn't matter if it was poisoned, at least he wouldn't die with a frog stuck in his throat. Not pausing even for a breath he drained the glass completely before finally taking in a breath and setting the glass back down. "I'm alive, so I'll consider myself lucky." A thin humorless smile appeared on his face as he watched her carefully while she unwrapped his arm. It didn't look very pretty to him to be sure.


    Now that he could get a better look at her he wondered why she seemed familiar to him, like a hazy half realized dream. Even her name felt somewhat familiar to him. Maybe he'd seen her in town once or something. There was no telling, if he had seen her while he was drinking that would explain why he only had the faintest idea of who she might be. "Clyde Riley at your service ma'm." Introducing himself he tried to be as polite as he could be when talking to a woman especially one who was the reason he wasn't being picked apart by vultures right now. His jaw tightened suddenly when she started to clean off his wound having to fight his urge to yank his arm from her grip. She's helping, she's helping. He had to remind himself of that, his hands tightening into fists as the gunshot throbbed with pain.

    Marigold seemed to stifle a laugh, her lips pressingly firmly into a thinned line as she held it deep in her throat, taking a small breath as she dipped the cloth back in the water, and wiped the fresh blood from his arm before getting to work on re-bandaging the wound. It was rather amusing to her- the way his entire body clenched, but pain was pain... She could understand that.


    "Lucky is right,"


    She replied casually, as if she were simply just conversing with the man. However she was analyzing a lot, trying to work out what she had to do. She looked back up at him as she pulled the bandages a little tighter around his arm, and then looked back down, her blue eyes staring intently at her work. She was honestly surprised that he drank the water, but of course she was not out to poison him. If she had wanted him dead, she would have left him back in the open.
    She seemed to pause however hearing his name- it sparked the memory in her head and she seemed almost cautious as she pulled her hands softly away, fingertips brushing down his arm as she moved away from him. How interesting... She had the Clyde Riley in her home- she wasn't sure she
    could name a place where he wasn't wanted.


    "My, my... I wasn't aware I had such a renown gunslinger in my midst. Should I be afraid?"


    She stared at him through her eyelashes, almost as if tempting him to give a response, but she turned away. She gently tapped her lips in thought before turning her head back to him, and carefully watched his facial expressions.


    "Actually... I could use a man of your talents. How's about it? I ain't got a lot but I can promise money."

    Grunting softly when she finished bandaging his arm back he was glad to when she had finished, just because this wasn't his first time being filled with lead didn't mean it hurt any less. Sometimes he forgot the weight his own name carried or simply used a different name to hide from the law and Pinkertons. It probably wasn't smart to tell a stranger his name, since there was a good chance she would either try and haul him to justice so she could get the large amount of money for him or would just throw him out which would be a death sentence without a horse. Chuckling to himself at her asking if she should fear him he seemed to find it kind of funny. Considering he had a bum arm and he didn't have more then a knife on his belt, he wasn't exactly the most dangerous person right now.He could still do some damage with a knife if he really wanted to. Glancing down at his belt he realized even his knife was gone. Glancing at her he was suspicious she might have taken it, but wasn't going to go around spatting accusations. "I doubt I'm half of what they say about me." He said simply watching her to see her reaction to the fact she had an outlaw in her house.


    Eyebrows knitted together at her request. See that was a reaction he wasn't expecting. As soon as who he was got discovered and he had to run out of town women looked at him like he was worse then a rattlesnake curled up in front of them. Clyde would be the first to admit he completely deserved that reaction. He sat up a little taller laying his wounded arm stiffly beside him on the bed. "Why kind of job is it?" He said cautiously doubt pulled down the corners of his mouth. He was supposed to be doing a job right now in fact. Stupidly accepting a job is what got him shot and robbed, he wasn't keen on jumping blindly into something again.

    A smile snaked it’s way into her soft features, turning up the corners of her lips and making two small dimples appear. She seemed to be rather pleased in his response about not being nearly half of what they say.


    “Well, I do have my doubts that you are as good as they say since I found you nearly dead… but I’m confident,”


    With a turn on her heeled boots, she lifted up her jacket, holding out a knife to him. She was offering it back- since it was his. She hadn’t exactly wanted him to get up and go crazy… granted there was a shotgun leaned against the nightstand as well- assumedly it was her own. Still, she was hoping he would take this as a kind gesture that she wasn’t out to get him. And her eyes were earnest as she spoke of needing his help.


    “I suppose it’s what you do- except not. Protect the innocence from the non.”


    She had meant it more as a joke- but despite the manner she went about it, she was deadly serious. She could use the man’s help and was certain she could get it. She just had to either offer the right amount… or prove that he could earn so much more from helping her.


    “I can offer whatever you need. Food, places to rest… a horse- guns,”


    She was trying to tempt him- but it was true. She had these things… she could not say who she really was, or what she really did, but he didn’t need to know she wasn’t being truthful- she was sure he would lie to her too… though it was oddly surprising he had said his real name- perhaps because she was a woman. Nevertheless she didn’t have a whole lot of time.


    “I need your answer, gunslinger,”


    She held out her hand, watching him intently as she waited for a response. If she could get him to help her… maybe she would be able to turn the tide- and that’s all she needed. Just a little bit of an extra… push.


    —


    I’m on mobile so excuse horrid formatting for a while ;;

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Dearis ().

    She basically insulted his skill, but he didn't seem to mind much. "I'm an outlaw, even the best of us end up nearly dying somehow." Watching her carefully as she moved he watched her get the knife which might have alarmed him if it weren't for the fact he could recognize the deer antler handle as his own in an instant. Taking it from her his eyes never left her as he slid the knife back on his belt, glad he at least had some sort of weapon. This sign of goodwill did make him relax the tiniest bit although he was still fairly tense. "Protecting the innocence? That's like asking a sinner to guard the offering plate for church." The outlaw didn't sound all that convinced, this situation was far from ideal. He didn't know a thing about her and the way she was talking in vague statements made him that much more uneasy about agreeing to do a job for her. Most of all he was looking out for his own safety, just because she saved him today didn't mean she wouldn't just kill him tomorrow. It also wasn't sitting right with him how he couldn't catch much of read on her. He knew someone who was hiding something when he saw it. Living in a rundown shack and using only a first name weren't signs of anything good. This might be a situation he was getting over his head on this one.


    Still....


    She was offering everything he didn't have and what he needed. Clyde gave a frustrated huff looking trying to think this through when she was already starting to push him into giving her an answer. If he didn't owe it to her the fact that he was alive at all right now he would have probably turned it all down. Out here in the middle of nowhere he had limited options in front of him. Scratching his stubbled chin in thought he slowly drew his good arm up nodding his head slowly. "Alright count me in." He muttered almost somewhat reluctantly, still he agreed to it. Hopefully this wouldn't end as bad as his last gig did. Here's to hoping.


    (It's alright :))

    Marigold let herself relax, her shoulders visibly lowering as she watched the man nod his head. She was glad he agreed… she didn’t want to do something- but if he had left… she would have had to. She didn’t want to get involved in that way. In fact that’s why she was out here in the first place.


    “That may be so, but ain’t no harm if the man you view seems like a good one,”


    She moved over to the side, picking up her shotgun. She didn’t aim it towards him, but kept it aimed down and placed it at her side where it then was strapped to her leg. She walked over to the bucket, hauling it up and sighing softly as she walked out of the room. In the central place of the shack it looked similarly to the bedroom- it was worn, and not at all pretty… but it kept her warm, safe from the elements and that’s all that mattered. She stepped out onto a shaggy looking carpet- some of it looked burned. She glassed back at the man expecting him to follow.


    “I’m heading to Burkshire. Heard of it?”


    It was quite a distant from where they were now- two days journey horseback… but it wasn’t a good area. It was filled with a lot of bad people- but unfortunately for her it was the only way, and there would be many more to go before they got to Barrow peak.

    "A lot of men seem like good men." Shaking his head he had met a lot of sinners who were convinced they were saints. He was starting to wonder who were the good ones these days. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he winced at the pain from his arm. It wasn't going to be very fun waiting for his arm to heal up, it could have been worse if the bastard weren't such a lousy shot. He raised a brow as she picked up the shotgun not seeming to relax until he was sure it wasn't coming anywhere near him. His body fought against the idea of him moving again, but he ignored it pushing himself to his feet. Snatching up the bread from the nightstand he held it between his teeth as he moved across the room to where his bag was propped up against the wall. Glancing down at his shirt it was a tattered mess that wasn't any good anymore. Awkwardly bending down he picked up his bag and hat. Slipping the old beat up hat back on his head he laid the bag on the bed and pulled out his only other spare shirt, at least he had thought a little in advance. He was peeling on his blood soaked shirt and was going for new shirt when he paused at her question. Pulling the bread out of his mouth he looked at her in the doorway not seeming to care he was shirtless or that his old scars on his back and chest were on full display. "Of course I know Burkshire, good place to go to lay low, not good for anything else though." The outlaw snorted as he thought of all the trouble he had gotten into in that town.


    Ripping a piece of the bread off with his teeth he went back and finished changing slipping on the new shirt, a string of curses could be heard as he pulled it over the bandages, and then his boots after that. Picking up his worn bag he moved out of the shack glancing around as he did so. It definitely wasn't anything fancy, but he wasn't one to judge it. "Alright if I'm going to be any help at all I need guns and bullets." If he was doing this he wasn't going anywhere near Burkshire with little more then a steak knife. If she wanted his help he needed guns again, preferably pistols, but Clyde would make due with whatever she had. He kicked the carpet with his boot as he came back. He wondered briefly why it looked like it had come out of a fire, but didn't really feel the need to ask. The gun issue was more pressing to him.

    After placing the items down, she walked over to the carpet once again, watching him as he moved about. She had looked away momentarily when he lifted his bag, but when she looked back, she wasn’t expecting to see the man shirtless, and she was evidentially caught off guard- her face flushing with colour as she gently coughed and some-what looked away. It was hard not to appreciate something like that- especially when it was so visible.


    “Ahem, yes…”


    She spoke sheepishly, awkwardly fumbling for a key. Soon enough, she pulled it out and walked over to the carpet, grabbing one of the charred ends and lifting it. Underneath there was a hatch- inside was a bunker type room… that’s where she kept some of her guns. She didn’t have a whole lot to choose from- but you didn’t need a whole lot. Guns were guns- they still did damage to another person despite what they would be.


    “What do you prefer? I have pistols mainly, another shotgun…”


    She dropped into it, but did come back up with his weapon of choice, placing it on the ground and sliding it over to him- so it didn’t make it seem like she was going to shoot him. She had a feeling this would be interesting… but she was also thankful. She needed not only protection but also intelligence of the area.


    “Horses are outside… I only have two, but they’re good horses.”


    She led the way to the barn outside, taking a moment as she walked outside to take in the sunlight. She lifted a hat from the end post of the fence along her balcony, and placed it on her head, fixing her jacket. It was hot outside, and the sand was boiling, heat coming off in waves relentlessly. She walked over to the paddock fence, nodding towards the barn to the right. She wanted him to wait there- better to keep him out of the heat while she got the horses ready- the tack already sitting nearby. She had clearly been ready to leave earlier.

    Inside the barn it was quiet, the hay inside was hard- likely a little old, but other than that it looked like a normal barn. There were however a few pictures- just photographs placed on top of a wooden box. They were faded, and thus hard to see, but she was in one of them- as well as a man. His facial features however were blurred- so it was hard to make him out.

    After about 15 minutes or so, she pushed open the door, the horses standing behind her.


    “Ready to go?”


    She was curious as to when he would start to ask questions- but she was prepared. She knew how to respond and she just had to play it safe- that’s all that mattered.

    When she pulled back a hatch from under the carpet he was looking at her wondering what he had signed himself up for. The more he puzzled over his current situation the more questions he found himself having. Styling himself a pretty straight forward type he didn't like having the wool pulled over his eyes on these sorts of things, especially when he own life was on the line. Looking down into the bunker he shrugged lightly thinking for a moment. "Pistols." He responded back not wanting to try to shoot a shotgun with a bad arm, at least with pistols he could suck up the pain and still probably get some shots off. Carefully he bent forwards and picked up the gun from the floor. Pointing it at the ground he examined it closely even looking down the barrel before slipping it in holster. He sighed glad to have the feeling of a gun at his side again. "Appreciate it." Smirking slightly he felt slightly better about his odds at Burkshire now.


    Following her to the horse corrals he crossed his arms over his chest when he saw the tack already out and ready like she had been planning this for a while. He turned to ask she about it, but she was already gone by the time he turned around. Huffing slightly he wasn't against staying out of the sun for now since he had just gotten out of it. He glanced down at his hands which were still tinted red from his desert wondering. Walking into the barn he looked around briefly taking notes of the musky hay and the photos on the box lid. He tipped his head at the picture or her and some guy he couldn't make out the features of. Whoever was in that picture wasn't all that important to him right now, a lot of people have skeletons they don't want to show anyone and trying to see them was a quick way to get in a tight spot, so he resolved to leave it, but remember it all the same.


    When she showed up in the doorway he was inspecting the gun again trying to get himself familiar with it as he could. When she came back he slipped the gun back and nodded briefly. "Yeah, what would you have done if I had refused?" He quirked a brow walking up to the horses offering a hand to each one huffing as he felt a little bit of discomfort when he stretched his hurt arm out of the one of the horses. He smiled briefly looking over both of them, his face softened a bit Clyde had always had a soft spot for horses.

    She handed him the reins of one of the horses, focusing on getting the tack tightened on her own. She seemed rather deep in thought before his voice shook her out of the trance, and she cast a glance over the back of the horse’s neck, eyeing him gently- as if she were allowed to be suspicious.


    “I would have gone anyways. I don’t stand much of a chance in Burkshire- even with you there, but I stand a better chance than if I had gone alone.”


    She replied carefully. She didn’t have much intentions in Burkshire other than simply using it as a path to get to Barrow Peak- plus even if it was a shitty place, the horses would need a rest. She did guess it was strange however that she had tack out for two horses- but she had been waiting for someone else… but they never showed. It was possible he ran into them- he may very well have put a bullet in his head… but that didn’t matter now.


    She watched him however, watched how his features softened as he looked at the horses, watched how it seemed to make him relax and she smiled a little. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as they made himself out to be. Gently coughing as she shifted, she moved to stand stand next to him to help him get on- if he needed it.


    “You know Clyde- if I wanted you dead, I would have left you. I don’t have anything against you… we’re both running from our own demons.”


    She wasn’t sure why she was telling him that, maybe because it gave her a sense of solace to think that way too. Regardless, she got on her own horse once he was on his, and took a slow, inward breath. It was time to go… gently she kicked the horse forward- just letting it walk for now.


    “You surprisingly keep questions to yourself- but I’m guessing your line of work tells you it’s smarter not to,”


    She looked at him, watching the way he rode- perhaps worried about his arm… it wasn’t entirely clear. But she soon looked away, and just softly sighed. Half of her wished she could be honest- but who knew how honest even Clyde was- even without reason to lie many people did it instinctively. However for his sake- the less he knew… the better. Plus it was better if they got along- it would make this journey go a lot smoother.

    Clyde caught her eyeing him over the horse's neck, he looked right back up at her. Still he nodded to the short answer not finding it that satisfactory with the fact that there was tack for two horses. Still, he didn't push her for answers. He was coming so it didn't matter who was supposed to go with her if he hadn't stumbled into this. "Just don't flash your gun at anyone. That'll get about ten guns pointed at you." He advised as he took the reins of the horse looking at the saddle as if it was a riddle he had yet to solve. It didn't help that it was the arm he typically used to swing up into the saddle was the one that was hurt. Shaking his head he noticed her shifting herself to his side of the horse to help he assumed. It wasn't something he was expecting from her even if she had helped him out before, maybe he just didn't know because he had known her very long. Throwing the horse's reins over its head he then awkwardly positioned himself so he could grab the horn with his good arm. He did need a little help pulling himself up into the saddle. Settling down in the saddle he glanced at her as she mounted her own horse. Giving a rueful smile when she pointed out she could have easily left him for dead if she wanted. "I appreciate that, just a bit soured to kindness I suppose."


    Kick his horse he followed her holding the reins in his injured arm. The gunslinger wanted to make sure his good hand was free to make a move for his gun if he needed to. There was a lot of bad land to cross to get to Burkshire, which wasn't a place he could see anyone wanting to go to unless they had somewhere else to go. As they started off he winced every few strides or if his arm was jolted. Still, he just tightened his jaw not making a noise about it. He wished he had some strong whiskey or bourbon to help numb it a little for the long ride. "Nothing gets you shot faster then asking the wrong question, everyone's allowed to keep their own demons." He liked to ask the essential questions that kept him alive and not much more. "I've learned that the hard way." He chuckled cupping a hand as he looked out towards flat terrain that looked as inviting as the gates of h*ll themselves.

    Marigold just nodded briefly. She wasn't one to do so- but she had to admit she tended to get defensive when she was stressed out... That had to say something, since she was still here and had yet to pull her shotgun on him. But she did look ahead of herself, gently pulling her hat down more so it shielded her eyes from the rays of the sun. She didn't mind the company, but she had a feeling he wouldn't stay for long. She had provided him with the means to get away- and he could take advantage of that... She had the coin on her, and well it wouldn't exactly be difficult to get it from her. At least, that was the way she was making herself out to be.


    "If your arm starts hurting let me know... We can take breaks as you need them,"


    She didn't look back at him when she said this, reaching up to her face she gently coughed- inhaling a bit of the dust clouds the horses were kicking up. She herself was staring out at the landscape, but the monotone appear she had on her face was worrisome, her eyes seemed focused on the horizon. She seemed concerned with getting to their destination, but with the time it had taken them to introduce themselves they had already lost an hour of precious sunlight, and it would get cold during the night.

    She glanced in his direction however when he brought up asking the wrong question, and she seemed to gently lock her jaw in place, looking away as she took a slow breath, lips parting as if she were about to ask something but it was notable that she was extremely hesitant.


    "I understand if you don't wish to answer, but why were you out in the middle of nowhere? No one comes out into the desert unless they're looking to get away with murder,"


    She had said it jokingly, but there was a nervousness in her voice that instantly changed with her demeanor, out here she was far more at risk... And god could only imagine what she would be like without him here- even if his company didn't assure much protection, it really was better than nothing.


    "And I suppose if you answer that... You can ask me something."


    It was only fair, wasn't it? Even if she knew the risk of such an offer... She had to build trust from something.

    As the dust started to come off the ground he slipped the bandanna around his neck over his nose and mouth to help with the dust. Clyde had traveled a lot on horse back normally very fast for a long time, so he knew pretty well how to keep dust out of his face. "Alright I will if I have any problems." He mumbled through the fabric not really planning on speaking up on his pain in his arm. It was obvious she was in a hurry and he wouldn't mind getting out of this desert as soon as possible. He was just going to have to bare it for now. Looking at the back of her head the whole way seemed like it could get boring pretty quick. Urging his horse up to a trot he rode up even with her. Noticing the trouble she was having with the dust he reached down with his good hand brushing his gun handle before pulling at a spare bandanna that was stuffed half way in his pants pocket. It probably did look somewhat alarming that he rode up beside her and then started to fiddle around near his gun. Holding up the piece of fabric so she could clearly see what he was getting he leaned over in his saddle stretching out an arm to offer it to her. A small sign of truce, it was a long way to Burkshire and he didn't feel like having to put up with overly suspicious looks the whole way. "Put it over your face. It helps with dust." He offered ignoring the possible side-effect that it made it very easy to be mistaken for a robber.


    He frowned beneath the cover on his face when she point blank asked why he was out dying in the desert. Taking a deep breath. Tightening his jaw he weighed his options of it. It was easier not to say anything, but he also had questions that he wouldn't mind getting answers to. "Me and a..buddy of mine got hired to kill someone, but things went sideways. The guy I was working with double crossed me, robbed me, shot me, and then left me for dead." Grunting softly the pain in his arm made admitting what had happened just a little more painful. Clyde did really elaborate much on who they were sent to kill because really it had turned real quick. His friend had got spooked and thought letting him die was better then risk having him get in the way. The biggest regret of his life now was taking that job. "Alright your turn. What is past Burskshire that you want to get to so badly?" He seemed a little leery when he asked, asking questions weren't something he was that comfortable doing. There were a few questions he had floating around in his head, but this one seemed to most important to him. Burkshire wasn't a good place, but he knew she wanted a hired gun for more than just a rough town.

    She had of course tensed when he came up next to her, and her eyes burned as she watched him fiddle next to his gun, but when he lifted his hand and showed her the fabric, she slowly breathed out. Her face had gotten a little red- clearly she'd been holding her breath. She thanked him quietly as she reached out, their hands obviously brushing as she took it from him, and held it over her mouth before she could get it situated where it wouldn't fall from her face- which wasn't too hard luckily. She didn't say much else, but kept up the trot because it was easier to keep the pace moderate. She assumed they would some-what be riding through the night, if he could handle it.. The sooner they got out of the desert, the better it was- for her own sanity and for his healing.


    She listened however when he answered her question, silent as she slightly cocked her head in his direction. So, she had sort of been correct... But clearly whoever he was after was dangerous enough- to send two people... Still, it didn't put her much off edge. There was a lot of hired guns nowadays for that specific reason- someone didn't agree with you or didn't like the way you went around things and they felt if they shot the mouth off you, it was one less sorry bastard they had to deal with. When he asked her however, she didn't seem that uncomfortable answering- it was something she didn't have to lie about... Simple enough.


    "I'm headed to Barrow Peak... The range out North. Suppose to be someone I'm meetin' with. But I do have to make plenty stops along the way."

    Her voice slurred- simply because she rushed the answer. She gently cupped the horn on the front of the saddle, and leaned back, stretching her legs a tiny bit. She bit her lip under the fabric, but the action was still quite noticeable. She was unconsciously doing it- thinking about the stops she did actually have to make... but she would likely do the rest alone after she got far enough.


    "I won't keep you forever- sure you've got more jobs and women to seduce,"

    She tried to joke, the squinting of her eyes due to a smile as she let out a tiny bit of a laugh and then proceeded to look ahead of herself once more. She just wanted to keep it light, who knew when something would go wrong.

    "Hey, uh, Clyde... you don't reckon your fellow gunslinger would still be out wanderin' about, do you?"

    Glad that she accepted the offering he put his arm down and straightened his position. He smiled underneath the fabric as he thought of her face turned red from holding her breath probably waiting for him to pull a gun and demand money. He wasn't that crooked, he might have flirted with the idea if he thought it would get him much. Of course he wouldn't admit it if she asked, but he also felt like he owed her a debt for saving his life. Having some kind of moral code, maybe a flimsy one, helped him sleep at night when he couldn't knock himself out with something stronger.


    Focusing on keeping his arm from being jostled too much he nearly missed her answer since she blurted it out so fast. Blinking a couple times he had to make sure he heard her right. "Barrow Peak is a pretty good distance." He commented never actually having been up there himself. The range seemed to be infested with hostile tribes and other outlaws on the run. Well it looked like he was headed there now or at least part of the way. Raising a brow at her fidgeting and clear discomfort he simply turned to look ahead. He wasn't doing too bad on keeping his arm still, until his horse stumbled just the tiniest bit and threw him forwards and bumping his arm on the horn. Grumbling he was fighting the urge to say every word that most women would slap him for saying.


    Despite the shot of pain he did give an amused chuckle as she guessed he had a lot more jobs and women left to lead astray. "I go where the wind takes me or where the beautiful women lead me." He meant it as a joke and completely by accident looked her way when he talked of beautiful women. Clearing his throat he looked back ahead and adjusted the fabric over his face. He was quiet for a time now trying to guess the odds that gunslinger was still around. They had been basically lost so it was very possible. "Maybe he was traveling with two horses so it probably got slowed down. Keep your eyes peeled, he was terrible shot." He didn't sound all that concerned about him. Still, they needeed to keep an eye out for him. Desperate gunslingers were the deadliest kind.