≫ Barrow Peak │ GXB Western RP│ P

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.
  • Marigold laughed softly hearing him joke back “he has a sense of humour!” She smiled, amusement in her eyes as she softly shook her head. She couldn’t say she was really laughing once he gave her the stare of someone watching a drunkard stumbling along, and she gently glared at him before smiling again, removing her hat only to push her hair back out of her face. She was glad at least that the wind had in fact died down for the night, she couldn’t imagine how much colder it would feel if there was a strong wind on top of the cold.


    There was a silence that overtook the woman, staring down at her hands as she listened to him, but her grip seemed to tighten lightly when he said he was swearing off partnerships, and she almost looked like she was giving the cold shoulder as she leaned back to stretch out her legs. Why was she so offended? What had she expected? She sighed, and felt the same twang pull at her heart, her gaze avoiding looking at him as she looked in the opposite direction to where he was. “Mm..” a mumble was her only response but she shook the thoughts from her head. “Well, I just want to say I’ve done bad things… but if I can help it- I won’t be another mistake.” She looked directly at him, capturing his gaze before she quickly looked away. She shouldn’t have said it like that, but there was no chance taking it back. “I’ll… keep you out of this- as much as I can.” It sounded like a promise, her eyes downcast, a sting making them brim with liquid before she took a slow deep breath. Even she wasn’t sure what she had gotten herself into.


    After this, the silence became a weapon of her thoughts, and she felt exhaustion pull on her body and mind, a yawn stretching her jaws apart before her lips gently met again, and she forced her eyes to stay open. This was going to be a long night. She tried to think of things they could talk about, and she just gently scratched at her neck as her lips parted to finally speak, “how is it someone like you doesn’t have the ladies lined up, anyways? I know plenty women who would love a dangerous man… but I reckon those are.. one night only deals.” She said with an awkward chuckle, looking over at him. Hopefully talking would help pass the time… and after making things uncomfortable; ease the tension.

  • He was confused by her response. There was so much of this situation that he couldn't really wrap his head around yet. Being a hired gun you ran the risk of playing into whatever turmoil was going on without knowing any of it was there at all. Maybe he would have answered differently if he could have read her mind or could even see what was going on, barely able to make out her face in the weak silver light the moon cast down. Now he was looking at her even as she seemed to avoid looking back at him at all costs. Letting out a soft breath he could feel a pain creeping into the back of his head. It was easier to blame it on the cold and lack of sleep, but it might have also been the fact he was trying to put a puzzle together he had only a couple pieces to work with so far. "Another mistake?" His brows pressed together in confusion. Clyde wasn't sure how she would be another mistake..or what she could have done that could be worse than him. "I'm already involved in whatever this is so don't try to protect me from it." He muttered softly looking down now. He didn't think he needed to be left in the dark, he was already part of helping her. What could possibly be that bad.


    Going back to grunting he had given up on trying to keep his arm out away from the horse. Sinking it back down to the side he was just trying to get a hold of some kind of logic to follow. None of any of this made sense to him, only a few loosely connected statements that didn't give him much details beyond a general idea that she had done some bad things and now she was wanted for them. That seemed to simple though to be the end of the story. He started to lean himself back trying to fight off the stiffness in his back from riding in the cold. Looking up briefly he didn't seem all that interested in talking at first since it seemed like she was still much more willing to ask questions then give a single answer. Still, the silence was making the ride even more uncomfortable and drawn out. Heaving a shrug he let out a breath and some of the tension he let build up with it. "Just never much had use for it. A fling is a lot easier to leave behind then something more serious....wait.." He paused looking in her direction in disbelief. "Did you just imply that I was desirable?" He laughed slapping his leg at the thought before wincing seconds later when he realized he had swung his hurt arm. Yeah he wasn't good at keeping the whole serious or melancholy thing going.

  • She remained ultimately silent, attempting to decide how to go about talking to him… now would be better than never, but at the same time, she needed his help to get to Burkshire. She was stuck at a crossroads of trying to be honest, and not wanting to lose him. She gently bit her tongue, focusing since she had yet to receive an answer to her last statement but the response she got did make her laugh, and the air definitely felt lighter. “I’d be lying if I said you were not.” She said honestly, and she wasn’t kidding… she looked at him, and a small smile made it’s way onto her face as she stared out ahead of herself. “My name is Amanda Marigold Loxkrow.” She said after a few moments of silence, her eyes warily returning to look at him. She knew how much weight it carried. Her father was a man worse than her- though he had the right intentions. He was a man of the law and the bible, and felt that outlaws were nothin’ but bad. He had started an act to try and rid the world of them- and had his daughter- Amanda, execute some of them, at least that’s what it said on paper. Amanda had fought with her father plenty times, but her father wasn’t a bad man.. just had the wrong idea how to go about things, and ended up to blame for too many disasters. And with her here, one could assume she wanted to finish what her pa started- even if that wasn’t the case.


    She did feel uncertain about how the man was going to react, and felt anxiety rise in her throat, filling her up so far she couldn’t swallow. She didn’t know what to do or how to go about it, and slowly just put her hand on her thigh where her knife was- she didn’t want to assume that he would react with hostility- she was hoping he’d just try and understand… and that he would ask questions. She wanted his trust- and his company… and she was terrified of losing it. She did notice her horse feeding off her emotions, it’s head held high in the air and it began to place its weight on its hind legs- tensed and ready to flee.

  • Clearing his throat he clearly hadn't expected the response he got to his joke. He was smiling for a few seconds before the name came out and hit him so hard it almost knocked him off of his horse. "Loxkrow." He mumbled hollowly not needing to dig back very far in his memory to know that last name. Her old man had done a lot of damage to outlaws, even former outlaws who were just trying to live out their lives in peace. That name carried a lot of bad weight for any person who had crossed the law. Loxkrow had become so infamous that his name and deeds were used to scare off greenhorns who had just decided that the rough life was for them. A lot of his old buddies had met their end by the radical man. Not to mention that it was a well circulated rumor that she had committed many atrocities herself. He was looking at her now in shock, like he was trying to find somewhere in her features the face so many people hated. Luckily he had manged to avoid most of the trouble with them, having been as far away as he could get and it had kept him alive. He couldn't say the same for some of his rowdier friends, although the only face that he could see was Mary Kate's the face of a newly made widow who was screaming and threw herself on the floor after confirming it was indeed Big Jim. As soon as her hand slipped down to her thigh he put his hands on his horn...a sign he wasn't going to go for his gun.


    It was a soup of under cooked emotions, old feelings of anger for deaths only made things worse and confusion as to if he could really think of even harming her, even now that he knew who she really was. This wasn't getting them anywhere and her horse looked ready to bolt. "Okay..okay..um..let's just all take a minute to breath. I won't...attack you or anything." He assured noticing how flighty her horse had become. It also made Clyde realize she was nervous of his reaction. Afraid he was going to lash out at her or just take out her anger on her. "Okay..you ran and have been hiding out ever since." The outlaw kept his voice calm and measured, he wanted to understand and not jump to anything to quickly. Her father had lumped all outlaws together, but he was doing the opposite trying to see past the name to the woman who had saved his life. He looked a little uncomfortable, more like he was just so unsure of what exactly to do now that it was in the open. "You don't share his...um...opinion of outlaws do you?" It was a very cautious question that had him even more on edge then the thought of who he was riding with. He didn't think so..but who knows.

  • She couldn't look at him, but she did notice his hands go to the horn and she relaxed just barely, her body still tense even if she was trying to keep her breathing normal. She wasn't a bad person- not entirely... at least... Well, honestly she wasn't so sure anymore- seeing how horrifically shocked he was. She felt sour, horrible about the things she'd done, but she was still just her- and she hadn't lied about her personality, just what was on paper... Breathing out slowly in the attempts to stop her pounding heart, she hesitantly looked at him, her hands tightly clasping her reins and the horn- trying to show she trusted him for now. She was surprised he didn't go at her- she could see the mess of emotions but anger was always the easiest to spot, and she'd be furious too.


    "Yes... that wasn't a lie. I'd been in the shack for four years," She began answering his questions, her voice wavering despite how hard she was trying to keep a straight face and attitude. "I... am not sure I can believe you but I'll try," he looked so on edge and she was too- she didn't think however either of them could help it. It was instinctual- at least for her... as a way to try and preserve her own life. "No... If I had, I would have let you die. I would have shot the two we ran into immediately." She spoke honestly, trying to put emphasis that she was being truthful. She gently removed her hat- playing with the piece of twine wrapped around it's base while the other hand steered the horse still. "I ain't guilty of the things I've been accused of either... Well... I can't say I'm not, I did kill a few of 'em, but honestly it's because I was tryin' to help them... They just kept callin' me a devil, pa left guns in the hopes some of them would just kill each other if he promised to let one of them go... but it put me in sticky situations, and I had to defend myself. Pa took it as a chance to get it really public then and I-" Her voice caught in her throat, and she quickly coughed, "but I'm not lookin' for your sympathy and I don't reckon you wanna give it... I'm just tryin' to set things right. My pa still has men huntin' all y'all, and if I can get to Barrow Peak... I can stop them. I just... need your help- but I understand if ya don't wanna give it anymore." She was worried that would be the case, but she tried not to think about it too much, pulling her horse to a stop, she just simply looked at the man, and watched him. She leaned over, grabbing her shotgun, and handed it over, before she pulled the knife off with her free hand and just tossed it to the ground. "I really... you're the last person I wanna hurt, Clyde."

  • He had the reins on his horse at a loose slack his hands still glued to the horn. They both seemed to be watching and deciding. Trying to trust each other with only the thin thread of trust they had managed to cobble with their short trip together. He was trying.. trying so hard to be in her shoes and take in everything she said. His eyes never wavered from her as she tried to explain herself the best she could. He knew she was right, she couldn't share the same views as her father with how not once, but twice she had let the outlaws live even though he wasn't sure he or the other two really deserved it. The fact that her dad had gone killing so many gunslingers was not the problem he had. It was that the people who were supposed to be the "good guys" had done sometimes worse things in the name of justice then any outlaw could have done. With her horse stopping he gently pulled his to a stop. He flinched as the shotgun came out as if expecting her turn it on him. Staring at her in complete bewilderment when she simply handed the gun to him he was in complete shock and just let the knife drop to the sand watching it as it hit the sand in a very quiet way.


    "I don't blame you for lying." He muttered softly looking down at her shotgun in his hands. He pointed it at the ground before moving to look back at her. "There were a lot of em who kind of deserved to die...a few anyway. I had an old friend...tried to turn his life around. Had a wife and a little baby. Then one day some of them and your dad showed up at his door I guess. Dragged him out...took them a week to find a body." Pushing his hat down to try and cover the brief moment of grief that flashed in his eyes. Drawing in a shaky breath he had to remind himself that feeling said about it wasn't going to change much. He looked between her and then the horizon as if it had some answers. "I'm not innocent either, killed so I could live a little longer...It might take some getting used, but..." He trailed off the anger having lessened now that he had at least said his piece. "Clyde Riley is at your service, however I can help." He decided finally swallowing the grudges since they wouldn't do much good now. There were still men out there. He awkwardly rested the shotgun on his saddle as he offer his hand out to her, as a handshake. It might be a small gesture, but they had to start somewhere.

  • Her eyes remained on him, and were full of emotion. She could see her father had hurt him but there was nothing she could go… nothing except put an end to this for once and for all. She did lowered her gaze however when he spoke- sort of in a submissive fashion because she really wasn’t out to try and prove anything but her innocence. When he began talking about an old friend, she could only bite her tongue, and very carefully touched his hand- she didn’t want to push her luck. She moved away however shortly after he had more to say, and she sat in silence as she waited to hear.


    It came as a shock to her to hear him say he would still help, but she tried not let herself get too excited. Yet… she was glad he wasn’t going to be leaving. Seeing his outstretched hand, she gently clasped it with her own, and held onto his hand to give it a quick squeeze before she let go. “We should keep moving,” She noted, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked out at the sky. “I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you but I guess even if we haven’t known one another for long, I wanted our departure to be a good one if it came to it.” She smiled weakly, completely and utterly thankful that the man was at least trying to understand… it was more than most men could take credit for.


    She had to admit though, she was exhausted, and even if she was trying to hide it, she was bent over the horn of her saddle and kept dipping forward each time her mind slipped into unconsciousness, and each jolting step forward by the horse as they were moving along brought her out of it. Luckily they weren’t too much further from Burkshire, and she swore once she got there, she was getting a bed to rest her head on- she’d sleep on the damn horse if it came to it! Yet perhaps it was also just the comfort of having Clyde there that was making her feel tired… trusting him enough that she could in fact sleep. “Thank you, Clyde. And I mean that whole-heartedly. You ain’t as bad as you think.” She offered a small compliment, before staring ahead once more.

  • Taking the handshake as a truce, an agreement both of them trusted each other enough to not shoot each other in the back. It wasn't a grand sign or even one that could hold up all that well under stress. His pal who had shot him showed him that pretty clear. He shifted his hands on the shotgun and outstretched it to her. "You let me know the truth more then what most folks would have done." He murmured with a faint hint of a smile coming across his lips as he urged his horse forwards again. He was still a little apprehensive, not of her really, just the whole situation he found himself in. The most wanted woman among outlaws was riding with one of the most wanted men by the law and some outlaws too. Funny little team they made up at the moment. It was going to take time, but the more he thought it over the more he realized it was better to help her then anything else. He had somewhat abandoned the job he had gotten with his partner, since it had nearly gotten him killed. He didn't have any other jobs after this. That and he had come to like her company. The old gunslinger supposed the wind was carrying him a direction he had never gone before.


    Riding in a somewhat comfortable silence now he was trying just sort the last of the details in his head to make sure he had it all straight. Dynamite would have probably done less damage then her real name did. He was thinking about that and about how best to keep the other outlaws off their trail. He doubted that there wouldn't be a lot of men out to get him and take him to the law or to get her and sell her to which ever outlaw paid the most for her, who really wanted to see her dead that badly. Raising a brow as he happened to glance over and catch her practically on the horse's neck again, he was almost wondering if someone had shot her in the back until she stirred when the horse took it's next step. Chuckling softly to himself she was clearly exhausted, but was probably to stubborn to try and admit it. He let her sleep slowing his horse down a hair so they were riding side by side just in case. Hopefully if she fell over she had enough sense to fall his way.


    Her compliment made him blink rubbing the back of his neck. "That's nice of you to say, I think I'm still not company you'd want to bring home to your ma." It wasn't very often he was a little flattered to be considered not as awful as maybe even he thought he was. He turned back to the horizon suddenly catching sight of the sun try to break it's way through the dark sky and the faint out line of buildings in the distance. "There's Burkshire." He commented taking his gun out of his holster and double checked he had bullets still. Slipping the gun back in his holster he focused on their target ahead glad it was finally visible.

  • Marigold was glad that they had reached an agreement of a sort, and even if it wasn’t anything solidified, or written on paper, she had trust they could keep it. She would do her best to do so, and hoped he would do the same. She wasn’t overly sure about everything else, however. As much as she said she wanted to stop her father’s men, they were ruthless, and never really listened to her before. Part of her could only imagine how radical they would be now that she and her father had disappeared. And, then there was the case of her friend they were meeting at Burkshire, there was little to no proof that he would still be there, or would still even attempt to help her, but she had sent a letter to him… so he was, or she guessed whoever lived there now, was aware that a woman was coming to their place of rest.


    She did notice the slower pace he had adopted after she’d nearly fallen off a few times, and she did smile a little. She didn’t overly wish to try and fall in his direction because she would only injure his arm further, but she did appreciate the thought. She looked up at the horizon however when he said Burkshire had come into view, and she smiled. In the pale morning light that stretched across the landscape, it illuminated the sides and backs of the buildings, making Burkshire ominously beautiful. She gave an easy and almost relaxed sigh, even if the small town was no comfortable matter, it was just nice to know they had finally made it. “I reckon we try and get some sleep.” She offered with a small laugh, her eyelids struggling to keep from closing. She’d honestly never felt as exhausted as this. However, as they got closer to Burkshire, she straightened on her horse, and forced herself to be more alert. She was taking it seriously, at least.


    As they entered the small populated area, it could be noted that it was quiet, all the noise came from the shops, the inn and the saloon of course the busiest. She dropped down off of her horse, tying it to the wooden post and bar they communally for all riders and their beasts. But she did glance at Clyde, gently biting her tongue. She didn’t want people to notice he was wounded- it would make them top vulnerable. Shifting, she slipped her coat off, and then put it around his shoulders- it revealed more of her flesh but it might work in their favour better. “I’d stick to callin’ me Marigold at least for now… men ‘round here will be drunk and hotter than the barrels of their guns- but I reckon you know that.” She gave a small smile. Removing her hat, the woman let down her hair, which fell into a dark wavy mess that profiled either side of her face, and gently laid across her chest. It helped her look like someone other than herself, and that’s all she needed. But she did shift over, heading in then direction of the inn. “I’ll go get a place to sleep… why don’t you go to the saloon? Maybe ask around about a man named Ryker Jones. I’ll come get you in about 15 minutes... if I don’t- come find me.”

  • The town was a welcome sight. He never thought he would be excited to Burkshire in his life. To say this town was a rough place was an understatement was a gross understatement. Refining his horse to a stop at the hitching post he raised a brow and glanced her way. “Alright no problem.” He nodded briefly with a smile before moving to get off his horse. Feeling something laid on his shoulder he stopped briefly to look back at her laying her jacket over his shoulders.


    He grunted as the fabric brushed his arm, but he kept it on. Clyde knew he needed to keep his arm concealed. “I have a couple people I can ask if no one in the saloon knows.” Slipping clumsily off the horse his legs weren’t ready for the ground having stove up from all the hours in the cold saddle. “Damn it.” He cursed as he almost went backwards stumbling back into the wooden post that she had tied her horse to. Bracing himself for a second he had to get the sense of feeling back in his legs.


    Grunting the outlaw made sure his own horse was secured and slowly pushed himself away from the hitching post. If he had any money he would have probably not minding going into the saloon. “Fifteen minutes.” He repeated back seeming a bit uneasy about the idea of leaving her on her own. He walked towards the saloon, which sat on the corner of the street. He was a bit stiff legged as he walked and cast one last glance at her over his shoulder to make sure she had made it. Once he was sure he took a deep breath and pushed his way through the front doors. Loud piano music and loud talking was what he was met with. Luckily no one seemed to take much notice to Clyde slipping in.

  • She did look back at him as well, watching as he disappeared from her sight when she stepped into the inn, gently sighing as she looked away, and focused on talking to the owner, who was sitting behind a bar, gently writing down names. Walking over, she spoke to him only briefly, she didn't need to say a whole lot, and bought a room for the day- they'd likely spend their time here since she had to find Ryker, and because they needed the time to rest and to collect supplies again. When she was done, she quickly made her way out of the building, and began to cross towards the saloon.


    It was maybe 10 minutes in that a voice spoke from behind Clyde, "Just water for myself, but whatever he wants give it to 'im." The voice was familiar, and the tone gave away that it was just Marigold, settling next to Clyde at the main bar- it was easier to get information when you sat up here, since this was the busiest place. She looked around the building slowly, but she couldn't see Ryker. "Any luck?" She questioned, her gaze pausing on a few men before she refocused back on Clyde. The men in here were not attractive excluding Clyde, not that it mattered... but it made talking to them easier if they were at least a little, they weren't so full of themselves then. She gently leaned back against the counter, picking up the glass of water and taking a slow but large gulp of the cold liquid- god it felt good. "Oh, I got us a room for tonight," she did know out of context that probably sounded... suggestive to some people around them, but she wasn't talking to them- was she?


    Marigold went to stand up again, to possibly help get some more information when she heard a whistle from behind her, it was quiet but sharp, and she turned. Standing directly behind her was a man of average height, his stubble was messy and filled with dirt, his eyes a russet brown, and he wore all black, his jacket gently sweeping the ground as he walked. "Well, 'ello darlin'." His accent was extremely thick, enough that his words sounded more like slurs, but Marigold didn't seem alarmed. "I was wonderin' who would be creepin' 'round in my town... enough that my fellers would think to inform me... But who might that be there?" He nodded his head towards Clyde, his eyes gently narrowing. He was a sheriff- but he was pretty neutral with the gunslingers here. Live and let live was his motto, plus with less rules, there was less to be broken, and therefore he didn't have to enforce the law. Not to mention he also had quite the loyal followers- even if they were all sorry excuses of horrible men. "That's Clyde- he's my... partner." She said as she gently hooked her arm with his, smiling. She had to say that- quickly glancing at Clyde and just hoping he'd go along with it. Ain't any other way to keep him alive than by saying that. Ryker might be a fair sheriff, but he also liked money- and she knew he could tell who Clyde was.

  • Plopping himself down at the bar he yawned looking around. He was ignoring the look he was getting for a woman at the end of the bar, her skirt slit high to show off a lot more leg then most respectable ladies would have. He didn’t even have to be near her to smell the cheap perfume wafting off of her. Problem with him blowing in and out of towns normally meant he left a girl or two broken hearted. This one was looking at him like he was a scum on the earth. Sighing he really wished he had some money for a shot or two now. Instead he slowly pushed himself off the bar and towards the woman. “Martha..have you seen Ryker Jones come through?” It was a terrible way the greet her and he knew it..he just didn’t want to get involved with unresolved issues. Martha had a pretty face with big bright eyes that squinted disapprovingly at him. “Just tell me and I’ll never look at you again if you don’t want me too.” He added quickly. Scoffing she raised up her hand and look like she was going to smack him square across the face. Instead he caught her hand and shook his head. “Martha.” He snapped noticing a few patrons turning to see the commotion.


    “Let go of me you Hell spawn!” Withering in his grip he merely held her wrist in place not hurting her in any way. “He’s got men posted outside the general store. I haven’t heard about him much lately.” She finally conceded and he released her as soon as she did. Shaking his hat he pulled his hat down and turned to walk away. “See ya around Martha.” He muttered coolly finding another spot on the far side of the bar. That was one relationship he never regretted ending.


    Blinking as he heard a voice come up from behind him he blinked expecting maybe Martha had come to finish that slap. He smiled briefly when he saw it was instead Mari. Nodding briefly he raised a brow. “You really sure you want to do that?” He chuckled before ordering some whiskey for himself. His arm was killing him and those would-be robbers had made him forget to grab the flask from the ground. Smiling finally when it showed up he finally took his hat off laying it on the bar beside him. “I guess he’s got men watching who’s coming into town. He’ll probably find us.” With that information out of the way he took a long gulp of the burning liquid. He had missed it too much to count. Maybe now he could numb some of the pain in his arm.


    Scratching at his beard he seemed pretty happy right where he was, undistubed with a drink in hand. That was until the doors came open and he turned to look at the guy who talked like he had gravel in his mouth. He remained silent watching him without a word. He had never formly met the Sheriff for obvious reasons. Glancing at Marigold he merely shrugged. “Yep partners.” He muttered in agreement going with it for his own sake. Of course if anyone knew the story about what had happened to him they’d be laughing at him for taking up another’s partnership right after being left for dead.

  • Of course the commotion had grabbed the attentions of some of the others in the saloon, mostly the men who seemed ready to interfere- but once they saw he let go, they all settled back in their seats. Marigold hadn't come in until after it ended, and probably better she hadn't. She walked over to Clyde soon after getting in, and of course just sat and drank with him- even if she was just drinking water. "Ya I'm sure." She chuckled in an amused fashion, shaking her head to emphasize that she did find it humorous. "Well.. hopefully he'll know we're here then. I don't really like goin' to his place." She admitted, and sat back on her heels.


    She was quite distracted with Ryker here, but did let go of Clyde's arm, the man eyeing Clyde carefully. "Don't you know-" Ryker began, but was silenced by the raising of Marigold's hand, "It don't matter, Ryker... What matters is I'm here, and I'm in need of your help," She was pleading, the desperation thick in her voice. She was exaggerating because she knew Ryker had a soft spot for women in distress- he liked the play the hero. It was no wonder he'd fought so hard to become sheriff. "I don't know Amanda," He spoke quietly, scratching at his chin, his fingernails catching in the groove he had in his chin from an old gash. "I can't exactly up and leave no more," Marigold bit her tongue, and gently removed her hat, placing it against her chest. "Ryker, come on... you must know why I'm here," She begged, eyebrows furrowed in mild confusion. He used to believe so readily in the cause before... "Well, as much as I wanna help, I don't got the same power anymore, darlin'." That seemed to shock Marigold, and she stared at him. "You can't come anyways, and help? Try to help?" She couldn't believe he was just going to let all of this slide. After a long minute of consideration, he gently sighed, clasping the bridge of his nose, and closing his eyes. "I'll holler ya at sunrise 'morrow. I'll tell y'all then."


    Marigold sighed as she watched Ryker step out, shaking her head as she placed her hat back atop her head. She hoped he'd agree. "Hope you don't mind an extra mouth, if he comes. He don't talk much anyways though." She told Clyde, settling down next to him. She knew she needed Ryker's influence to help with her pa's men. Ryker had helped train some of the guys, so he wasn't inherently good either, but he wanted- or he had wanted to help her stop it, 4 years ago. Trying to move on, she ordered just two shots of whiskey, and as she downed one, it was clear she wasn't used to the taste, nor the burning sensation that made her body feel hot. "Order what you want.. it's on me." She didn't look at him, her eyes concealed with a mist of her thoughts, her mind heavy with a fog that made it hard to focus. Maybe it was the stress, or the frustration, or the exhaustion, probably all of the above.

  • Clyde gave him an equally suspicious look to Ryker at how close the man had been to alerting the whole bar that he was here. The last thing he wanted was a bar brawl breaking out. Sighing he took a drink of his whiskey and quietly listened in on the conversation. He got a little more insight on their history together and that Ryker wasn't very willing to stick his neck out now. They needed all the leverage they can get. They were knowingly tracking down known killers who had brought down some formidable outlaw. Looking down at his murky reflection in the dark alcohol he also didn't feel like meeting the man upstairs just yet. He knew it was a possibility, but was trying to avoid it if he could. He had downed about half his glass when Ryker made his exit. Only nodding Clyde leaned himself against the pine topped bar. At least the pain in his arm had started to numb..or it felt number anyhow.


    "You are a saint among men." He chuckled tipping his glass to her. Maybe he was joking a bit, but he did really appreciate her unnecessary kindness to him. Noticing the stormy look in her eyes he raised a brow before draining his glass dry. Rubbing the back of his neck he set it down not immediately getting another one. He was trying to pace himself. He wanted some of his senses about him. "Let's have one more round and then go get some sleep." He suggested. It occurred to him that there was one room and likely only one bed. That was a bridge he wasn't ready to cross yet. Waving the bartender over he ordered another glass of whiskey. He planned to pay her back later, hopefully before he ran up too much of a debt with her.

  • Marigold did watch him, watched how Clyde would bring the glass to his lips- she almost seemed captivated but she quickly shook her head, and looked away. "Another round? Oh I'm not sure... if I can." She gave a small laugh, but to amuse him- she did. God did she feel it hitting pretty damn hard... Her entire mind churning in the same fog but now it was hot, her face flushing with colour as she grasped the edge of the bar top, she felt like she was swaying... She slowly rose to her feet, and stumbled off to the side, blinking and just looked at Clyde. "Jeeze..." She breathed out under her breath, and attempted to gather herself back up. She removed her hat, pushing her hair back and gently fanned herself with her hat.


    She was thankful however when she noticed they were heading to the Inn finally, and she gently held onto the man to keep her balance. She wasn't sure she'd still be standing otherwise. "You can 'ave the bed.." The words could barely make it out of her lips, and she was blinking a lot- like it would somehow help her muddled mind. Once inside, she slowly relaxed. It was warm in here- not like how it was hot outside. She stumbled up the stairs to the room they'd be sharing, and she gently pushed it open. She walked over to the blankets that had been laid on the floor- she had to tell the owner that she wouldn't be sleeping on it... But she was going to. She shrugged her shoulders almost as if she believed she had her jacket on, which was purely just routine, and then gently laid down on the ground among the laid out sheets, giving the biggest sigh she had in a long while- she felt comfortable. Honestly the floor was far more comfortable than the bed she'd had at the shack... that was for sure.

  • Since he had basically brushed his teeth with pure whiskey for several years he was able to hold his liquor a lot better then she did. He did find it slightly amusing, but also put his hat on before helping her away from the bar. Clyde had to herd her out of the saloon putting his arm around her shoulder and gently moving her one way or another. "We'll take turns.'" He shrugged, if she wanted the floor she could have the floor, but he wasn't planning on making her sleep the whole night on the floor. "Alright come on one step at a time." Coaxing her up the stairs there was a clear bit of humor to his eyes as he watched her. She was kind of funny to watch stumbling around. Glad they made it in one piece to the hotel room he let her find her way and slipped the coat of her's on to the back of a chair in the corner of the room. Because he was numb to most things he didn't wince feeling it brush against the bandages on his arm. By the time he turned around she was already snuggled into the blankets.


    Sitting on the foot of the bed he looked her direction before kicking off his boots, sending a small plum of dirt into the air around him. Peeling off the other boot he looked down at the filthy shirt he had on. One sleeve was crusted with blood and the sweat from their walk over here made it cling to his skin. Shrugging he slipped it off over his head and threw it down by his boots. Laying on the bed with a soft groan he never thought laying in a bed would feel so close to how heaven must feel like. "If you want to kick me out of the bed don't be afraid to." He mumbled laying his hat over his face feeling his eyelids getting heavy already.

  • "No... it's okay." The exhaustion was clear in her voice, and she found herself barely able to focus on the items in the area around her, her thumb and index finger gently playing with the blanket she'd managed to get over half of her body. She did slowly shift onto her back, and watched the man with slight curiousity as he worked on getting his shirt off. "That's a little dangerous, in a room with a woman." She joked, but soon looked away once he had laid back. She closed her eyes, and instantly felt the waves of unconsciousness pull at her mind, slowing her heart rate and softened her features till they were relaxed. She had a small smile on her face as she fell asleep that morning.


    ____


    She woke up just before Sunrise the next day, and found herself tangled up in the blankets. With a minor bit of struggling, the woman freed herself and slowly rose to her feet, a yawn taking her voice away just as she was going to attempt to speak. Facing defeat in that fashion, she went over to the bed, one knee on it's edge as she bent over and gently grasped Clyde's shoulder, giving him a small shake. "Rise an' shine." She almost purred with amusement and energy- glad for such a nice rest. She kept trying to wake him until he did, and when he did, smiled down at him and then got off the bed. She was glad she didn't have much of a hangover- not yet at least.. But perhaps all that sleeping did her some good.


    She walked over to find the boots she had discarded later during the night, and sat down on the rocker nearby the window of the room to pull them on, half humming and half singing a song about a farmer- or something like that. She cocked her head towards the window however, staring out of it. Ryker would give his response today- at least she hoped he remembered... and she was also hoping that they would be traveling with another body. It was good protection, and it would be nice to have Ryker around again- not that she didn't enjoy Clyde's company... the way she enjoyed his was drastically different from how she enjoyed Ryker's. Part of her wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Interrupting her own thoughts, she rose to her feet and grabbed her jacket, pulling it on and then looked over at Clyde, biting her lip as she mused about his shirt, and other supplies they would surely need to grab before they headed out once more.

  • The last couple of days had done a real number on him, he hadn't really had a good sleep in a long time. So, when she woke up he was sprawled out his hat still somehow over his face while he slept softly snoring. Feeling her grab his shoulder he stopped snoring, but was not budging anywhere very quickly. She did finally coax him up eventually. Groaning he seized his hat peaking out at her and wincing from the light that suddenly flooded his eyes. "Leave me out of your rising and shining." He murmured, but slowly sat himself up. The blankets fell away, but he didn't seem that concerned with the fact he was shirtless. It was cooler then trying to sleep with his shirt on. Hanging his legs over the bed he was slow to moving. That sleep was so good he didn't want it to end. Slipping on his boots he rubbed his arm peeling back the bandages to look at it. It still didn't look pretty, but there didn't seem to be much bleeding from it at least.


    As he got his boots on he saw Marigold looking out the window like a dog waiting for his people to come home. "That's the best I think I've ever slept, especially with a woman in the room." He was clearly joking as he finished putting on his boots before reluctantly picking up the shirt. Slowly he put it back on shaking out the arm with blood before he grunted realizing the pain he had forgotten about when he had been drinking started to come back to him. Running a hand briefly through his sandy hair he then slipped the hat back where it belonged. "Are we ready to go?" He asked looking around the room. There wasn't much in this room to start with so it wasn't hard to tell what was their's. Grunting he began stretching out all the tired muscles trying to get himself awake so he could keep up with her.

  • Marigold had rolled her eyes, "I reckon you need all the beauty sleep you can get," She retorted back, amusement sparking mischievously in her eyes. She wasn't really a morning person, but she felt good, and thus she let that show. She was up on her feet because she knew drawing out how long it took to awoke she'd never get off the ground, and she'd just feel tired and would likely mope all day- not something she planned to be doing. She finished getting ready, and walked over towards the door, watching him ready himself slower than a tortoise moved along in the beach sand- it was quite funny to her actually, and she found herself giving a gentle snort.


    "What do you mean by that?" She didn't seem offended, but was playing back with the joke. It felt nice to be able to joke around with the man as if they were friends- even if they truthfully weren't... and likely wouldn't be for too much longer. It could be noted however that she was playing with her hair, and that was her deciding whether to keep it up or down, and giving up due to the frustrations she simply let it be. "I'm certainly ready... are you?" She commented, raising a brow as she observed the man stretching out, and grunting quite a bit. It was amusing to her. "How 'bout we get you a new shirt, Clyde? I can't imagine that its comfortable." She nodded towards the dried blood, and just in general how dirty it was. She didn't seem to be giving him much say in the matter however as she rotated on the heel of her boot, and they gently clicked with the wood flooring as she exited the room. They could go just across to the general store- she was sure they could find a shirt for him and possibly a bit more than that... Even she felt like she didn't really pack for the journey, and truthfully was limited in clothing herself.

  • He was ready to tell her not to waste her money, but she was already gone before he could get the words out. He chuckled thinking was entertaining to see how quickly she was already moving this morning. He followed after her not half as quick as he met her at the bottom of the stairs. "Jesus how do you move that fast? It's like you're part jackrabbit or something." He snorted clearly amused despite by how grumpy he might of seemed about first getting up. The outlaw was glad to get a good night sleep and seemed more likely to see the humor in things now that he wasn't fighting to stay away. Pausing at the door he caught the same pair of hostile eyes watching him, Martha leaning against the old player piano listening to some other guy play. Shaking his head the outlaw ignored the look and moved on with his life. If she thought he would be jealous after so long apart she was joking herself. Of course she gave and equally vicious look at Mari simply for being guilty by association.


    "Anyway, like I was saying. You women think you sleep all pretty and delicate. Y'all toss and turn more then men do I guarantee it." He chuckled squinting as they walked out in the morning sun. Clyde enjoyed just being able to talk and joke around, it helped make the days go by easier. Even though it was still a pretty grey area where they stood with each other, at the moment they were in this together and he was trying to be more trusting of her. Looking across at the general store he drew in a breath. "You need to stop wasting your money on me." He grumbled looking down at his blood stained sleeve. He would live with it if he needed to. Letting her spend her money on him made him feel like he owed her more and more.