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Addie Meadowsweet

courage is the small voice at the end of the day saying ???i will try again tomorrow.???

0 · 461 views · located in BlackWater

a character in “Last Of The Revenants”, as played by partially-stars

Description



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courage is the small voice at the end of the day saying x i will try again tomorrow
planetary (go!) - hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - simmer



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F U L LXN A M E
Adelaide Patience Meadowsweet

N I C K N A M E (S)
Addie

B I R T H D A Y
May 28

A G E
24.

R O L E
Hunter

S E X U A L I T Y
Asexual biromantic

E T H N I C I T Y
Caucasian

H O M E T O W N
BlackWater

H E X
#c6a9a3



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S T Y L E
Addie's style is an odd collection of old clothes that were too damaged to repair but intact enough to salvage, clothes that were too big or too small, and clothes that just didn't fit right. She learned to sew her own dresses, her own trousers, her own shirts from them, and the result is a truly unique style that makes her stand out from the crowd. She's like a magpie, always in search of shiny accessories and bright colours to add to her clothes. She generally prefers to wear trousers, even if it is a little unorthodox, but it's more practical for both the bar and the hunt.

H E I G H T & W E I G H T
5'4", 130lb

A P P E A R A N C E
Addie is the type of person that your eye seems to be drawn to, no matter what. Maybe it's the fact she seems to be constantly in movement, a fact that is emphasised by the multitude of reddish brown braids that surround her head. Maybe it's the bright colours she adorns herself in. Or maybe it's those big dark eyes that seem as though they could see into your soul and that give away all of her emotions at times. She usually wears a grin or a smirk of some sort, but her expression can just as easily turn to a set jaw and a stubborn glare. Some make the mistake of underestimating her based on her almost pixie-like appearance- a huge mistake.



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L I K E S
To nobody's surprise, Addie likes most types of alcohol and can drink even some of the biggest, burliest men under the table. She likes home-cooking and freshly-baked bread, especially when somebody else makes them for her. She's rather proud of style and the fact that she can make her own clothes from just about anything. The feeling of community in her tavern makes her proud. She loves horse-riding and the freedom it gives her. Being able to defend herself in this case of an attack makes her feel capable, like she can do something to help. She's always loved swimming but hardly ever gets the chance.

D I S L I K E S
Addie hates the monsters that attack the town, as, even though she knows how to defend herself now, they still bring her back to that awful night. She doesn't like mushrooms as she finds the texture extremely unpleasant. Threatening men are her least favourite type of patron, even if she's well able to to deal with them. She hates having dirty fingernails and is almost constantly picking them clean. She doesn't like sloppy people and is always drawn to people who put in a little bit more of an effort with their appearance. She's a night owl and hates early mornings. She hates being sick and is a terrible patient.


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P E R S O N A L I T Y
Addie was raised to be gentle and a lady. And despite her appearance, that is how she comes across as first. Polite, friendly, and the epitome of grace. She's friendly, always willing to strike up a conversation with any lonely patron of the tavern, and she's the type of person that's easy to have that conversation with. And those lonely patrons, the ones who find the cold nights the hardest or who don't have anyone else to look after them, they know that there'll be hot food waiting for them if they just ask. Her parents were kind and generous and they instilled those values in her too. She pays her staff well, but she also expects loyalty and hard work in return.

And she's also deeply brave. She was so scared the night she lost her parents, and she was determined to never be that scared or helpless again. She had only ever thought about defending herself against the monsters, but she soon learned that, being a short, young, pretty girl, she sometimes she had to stand up to other humans too. And now, she can stands up to them without flinching, and she can take them down in two moves. She's learned that when you're brave, you don't just feel safe yourself, you can make others feel safe too, and that's something that's so important to her. When people, especially other women, feel safe in her tavern, then she feels that she's really accomplished something.

Addie is incredibly protective over those she cares about, often to being to the point of over protectiveness. She forgets that people can look after themselves, and that sometimes, they need to stand on their own two feet for their own good. She was forced to stand on her own feet and she never had a chance in that. She knows how hard it is and how lonely it can be, and she doesn't want anyone else to feel like that. So she sometimes fights other people's battles and has a tendency to baby them. If someone asks her to take a step back, her feelings might be hurt, but she will listen.

She can be a little defensive at times, her pride perhaps being her fatal flaw. She won't always back down when she should, and sometimes, she might have to be dragged away from a situation from her own good. She'll usually listen to those that care for her or that she cares from, but there are times when she really thinks she knows best and won't back down until she absolutely has to. She usually means well, but sometimes loses the track of what the best thing to do is in sight of her pride.


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H I S T O R Y
Adelaide Meadowsweet was the daughter of the beloved tavern owners in town. They were relatively wealthy, but they were fair, and they were loved. Little Adelaide was the epitome of a charming child, the image of grace and intelligence. She was headstrong, too, but so was her mother, which meant that she knew exactly how to manage her daughter and what to tell her.

Adelaide's life was destined to be an ordinary one. Her mother taught her how to sew and make her own clothes, she sat and observed her father as he worked and figured out their finances, and she learned how to ride a horse like a lady. She thought that was all her life would be, and while she sometimes dreamed of more, she had no idea what that more would look like.

The more came in the form of an attack in the dead of night when she was sixteen. She still doesn't know what happened, other than waking up to hearing the screams of her parents. She went to see what was happening, but instead, a strange woman pulled her away and told her to run. The woman gave Addie her address and told her it was safe there, she would find someone to look after her for the night. The woman came back at a late hour. At first, she wouldn't tell Addie what had happened. But Addie refused to believe her lies, and eventually Elizabeth told her. Impressed by the young girl's persistence, when Addie asked to be trained, Elizabeth agreed.

While she was being trained, Addie also took over the running of the tavern. While many of the patrons liked her, they still saw her as that sweet little girl, and refused to take her seriously. Between repairing the damage done to their house and losing business, the first year or two were hard on Addie. Her way of life changed, and she changed. When men shouted abuse or crude things at her, she would turn around and yell right back at them, or kick them out without hesitating. She would stand up to men taller than her and know she could take them down no matter what, and that brought people back. People felt safe in Addie's bar and that brought people flocking back.


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R E L A T I O N S H I PXS T A T U S
Single but open to a relationship

A B I L I T I E S
Addie doesn't have any special abilities that mark her out from the rest. Her training has given her increased stamina and strength, as well as a good aim, but neither of these traits are superhuman, and even some other hunters could outpace her.

T A L E N T S
Addie's a quick draw with a gun and has good aim with it too, so it's better not to take your chances with her. Despite her petite frame, she can take down a man a foot taller than her and twice as wide as her with relative ease thanks to knowing where to hit and being stronger than she looks. She's charismatic and good with money, able to strike whatever deal seems to work best for her and her business.

S T R E N G T H S
Addie is endlessly kind and generous. She'll look out for anyone that she thinks needs looking after. She's also a good hunter though, and she won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. She's good with money and is a savvy buyer, able to see through any sales spin someone tries to use against her. She's built up a reputation of being stronger and scarier than she first looks, and she lives up to that reputation.

W E A K N E S S E S
Addie is overprotective of everyone she cares about, often to the point of being overbearing and interfering with their life. She can be a little heartless when it comes to a hunt as she has to shift entirely to a different mindset. Her cooking is only okay at the best of times, and it's been known for things to go horribly wrong from time to time. She often gets herself into disputes that she either doesn't belong in or that leave her way out of her depth.


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So begins...

Addie Meadowsweet's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs
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addie meadowsweet
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outfit | #c6a9a3


Life in the tavern was seldom boring. Addie had spent her entire life in one so the chaos was all she had ever known, and it felt as much a part of her now as anything else. She was used to having to do three things at once and it didn’t even feel like a challenge any more. She’d seen everything in her time here. When she’d finished her training as a hunter, or at least was able to defend herself, Elizabeth had offered to bring Addie with her, so she could experience the hunt for real. But this life was all Addie knew and all she wanted to do. And besides, the small town had plenty need for a hunter. People knew there was something different about Addie, in the way she could take down a fully grown man twice her size in the blink of an eye without a single weapon, but she was one of them, and it was something they seemed to forget until they had reason to remember it.

She heard the uneasy silence fall in the bar, but she was busy pouring drinks for two of her regulars. Besides, she knew what that silence meant. It lasted only for a second, before people began to talk again, afraid of their silence bringing unwanted attention on them.
“Them types never bring anything good,” the old man in front of her grumbled. “I know they’re only tryin’ to help but I spent enough time fixin’ up their mess when I was a boy and I ain’t starting again now.”
“Don’t you go startin’ any trouble now, Willy, ya hear?” Addie warned. “I’m too darn fond of you to have to throw you out.”

It wasn’t Ol’ Willy that presented the issue though. One of the other patrons began to yell at the hunter, and Addie instinctively reached for the shotgun she had under the counter. She wasn’t about to use it, but it made her look a little more intimidating when it came to kicking troublesome patrons out.

And then the hunter’s expression changed, and Addie could tell exactly what it meant. She didn’t wait for the hunter’s orders before she began ordering some of the others out. She knew that she had a few hunters in the bar- a few of the others that stuck around town tended to frequent the bar, and she’d seen them come in.

She came out from behind the bar, the shotgun in hand, ready for whatever was about to come through those doors. She smirked at the woman’s apology for ruining the tavern. She’d patched it up plenty times before and would do it every time again. She was already ducking behind a makeshift shield of the table as the woman instructed them to do so, double checking to make sure the shotgun was loaded and she had ammo on her. This wasn’t her first attack and she’d be damned if it would be her last.






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david arthurs
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outfit | #3e5c59


David had been able to feel that something was coming for days now. It was a vague feeling of unease, one that he couldn’t put his finger on or trust. He was far enough away from the main town that he couldn’t be sure. But then he could almost feel the presence of another like him, and that told him everything. Something was going to happen. He warned his uncle and rode into town under the pretence of buying supplies. Those he encountered still watched him with wary stares, his grey eyes a sign of something darker in him.

He heard the screams before the reek of death reached him. He slammed his money down on the general store’s counter. “Y’all better hide, ya hear? Don’t come out till someone’s safe. Lock the doors and barricade them.” He ordered, before turning and heading outside. People were running and the screaming was getting louder. He took shelter behind an overturned cart, drawing his pistol.

The monsters couldn’t be killed with a gunshot, but it would at least slow them down and give him time to figure something out. And then he caught a glimpse of the monsters, silently swearing to himself. Wendigos. He drew his shotgun, knowing the pistol wouldn’t do jackshit against the creatures. In the few months he’d been with the other group of revenants, they’d given him something that, when set alight, could take down a wendigo, but he didn’t make a habit of carrying all that stuff with him. He just prayed he’d left somewhere in this jacket.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Temperance Wheeler Character Portrait: Benjamin Lewis
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Hunter // Attire // Hex: #1d8256


Things had been going too smoothly. Darcy had money in her pocket, the weather had held, and the skinwalker hunt they were coming back from up near Livingston had turned out to be a milk run. Three hunters and a revenant had been overkill, but everyone had walked away alive and whole, so she wasn’t complaining about her one in three share. It was enough to pay for a room at an Inn the night before with real beds, a wash tub, and soap (absolute heaven) with plenty left over for a supply run. They were even making great time, Darcy had noted cheerfully all day, so of course things had to go to shit.

The plan was to run into Blackwater for supplies on the way back to the cabin. She and Benji had been on the road for almost a week now, they were due for a little rest, and Darcy wanted to catch up with the local news in town. Benji would want to check his garden, the last of the hardier late blooming crops needing to be put up, so Darcy had made a note to pick up some more salt and jars from Tempe’s store with her earnings. An hour ago they’d been arguing about how many bags of potatoes Benji could reasonably buy, Darcy refusing to allow that to be their only roadworthy provisions to buy. Now the lightheartedness of that moment seemed far away.

“How many?” Darcy asked lowly, eyes scanning what she could see of the town as the scent of decay and rot burned her nostrils. Benji had sensed something wrong first, but in broad daylight, this close to town...there had been a stray hope. There wasn’t any arguing with that smell though. Anyone unfortunate enough to encounter a wendigo would never mistake it for anything else.

The wind tousled Benji’s hair, and he tipped his head thoughtfully as silver eyes gazed off into the distance ahead. For a moment he said nothing. “Many.”

Which was no answer at all, but enough to know they were fucked. Darcy cursed quietly as she rifled through their leftover supplies, taking an inventory of what they had. It wasn't as bad as it would have been coming off a more difficult hunt, but they still weren’t charging in with a full bag. Only four jars left. There were more monsters down there than they could take on their own. For a moment Darcy’s mind caught on that thought, her eyes flicking up to Benji from her distressingly light saddle bag. They weren’t caught up in the melee yet, they had horses. Turning back to the road, skirting around town to the relative safety of their cabin, they could just leave. It would be easy.

“We’d better hurry then.” Benji said quietly, eyes locked, and clearly distracted by something Darcy couldn’t see with strictly human vision far ahead in the town. “They shouldn’t be out this early. No one will be ready.” But of course they wouldn’t leave, they had friends down there, and neither Lewis sibling was very good at walking away. Even when it was the smartest thing to do.

Darcy nodded, readjusting the extra strap on the saddle bag to sit across her body as a satchel. They left their horses under the light shelter of some tree cover just outside the city, a spot Darcy suspected would be safer than the chaos churning inside. If they didn’t make it out, Winnie and Spot knew their way back to the cabin. Benji gave their noses a comforting stroke before they left, and from there, they made their way on foot. The choir of screams beginning to rise up in the city center acted as their guide to the monsters plaguing the streets.

By now the stench was suffocating. One wendigo could stink up the place, but this? Darcy had never heard of so many wendigos hunting together, had always thought they were too territorial for that. She tried not to choke, yanking her arm up to cover her nose for a momentary reprieve as they crept through sheltered alleyways at a steady clip. They were closer to the center of town, near Addie’s place, when they spotted the first wendigo. It was eating some poor woman in the street, her body pinned in place as it chewed on her neck. The poor woman’s body still twitched minutely, but her eyes were glazed, and her throat had been ripped to shredded ribbons of bloody meat. There was no saving her. Another wendigo was slowly approaching from a side street, chuffing softly as it scented the fresh blood. The first wendigo growled in warning, its shoulders hunching over its meal defensively, but the second still slowly advanced.

Darcy watched the encounter carefully, stopping Benji from going forward with one hand, and pulling out one of her jars and tinder box from her bag with the other. It was horrifying to think of two monsters grappling over feeding rights to a corpse that wasn’t even cold yet, but strategically, this was good luck. Two wendigos with one greasy jar, efficient for their limited resources. Darcy had just lit a match, bringing the small flame to the alcohol soaked cloth peeking out of the jar when she noticed the boy.

He couldn’t have been more than ten, shaking behind the barrel as he watched the wendigo eating the woman in the street. Darcy thought it was fear before she saw the rock in his hand. “Dammit kid, don’t do it!” She hissed harshly under her breath a moment before he was throwing the rock at the monster.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER! GET AWAY FROM MY MA!” There was a surprising amount of courage pouring out of the kid, even with leaky eyes and shaky knees, but Darcy wished he’d been more of a coward as the wendigo’s head jerked up in his direction. “Benji…”

“I know.” He answered without her needing to say it, and they were both moving, Benji quite a bit faster than she. He was on the boy, pulling him back and away down another alley as Darcy dashed into the street, making as much noise as possible to draw the creature’s eye as she flung her fiery payload at the ugly son of a bitch. Her aim was true enough, flames dancing across the corpse of the woman and the first wendigo upon impact. It’s wail high pitched and keening as the fire spread across its body, but any satisfaction Darcy got from that was short lived.

The impact was hard but clumsy as the second wendigo lunged at her back. It had been trying to grab hold, but Darcy turned enough in time to simply be knocked to the dirt, left shirt sleeve ripped as three shallow cuts bloomed red across her upper arm. She shimmied back as far as she could, scrambling for the revolver holstered at her hip. Fuck all it was going to do to a wendigo, but he was too close. Darcy fired and emptied the chamber, hoping it would buy her enough time to get to her feet.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Talbot Character Portrait: Harlan Talbot Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles
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#, as written by Kaeru
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"A week."

"I know."

"Seven days."

"I know."

"You know, you know, of course you don't fucking know," Arthur barked, fidgeting impatiently against the cowhide saddle of his mare. Seven whole days on the road without a single opportunity to wash up. Sometimes he envied his father's ability to live in his own filth without a care. Arthur could feel a layer of sweat and dirt beginning to coat his entire body; the skin of his cheeks and forehead becoming reddened from the constant friction of his handkerchief. He'd taken to picking at his nails in an attempt to clear them of dirt but in his urgency, he'd caused a fair few of them to split from the skin and bleed. Worse than that, his clothing had already developed an unpleasant odour. He'd discarded an unreasonable amount of sweat and blood-soaked clothing on their trip which was, as Harlan had jested, a wonderful little trail that any nearby Wendigo could use to track them down.

"Yes I do fuckin' know," the older Hunter repeated in a mocking tone, "'cause you've been whingin' about it for five of those seven days and frankly, at this rate, one of us is not makin' it back to that god damned town." A little harsh perhaps but Arthur wasn't one to openly challenge his father past a certain point of frustration. Harlan's brows were pinched together, hazel-green eyes focused only on the road ahead. If he'd judged things correctly, they would likely make it to Blackwater for their supply run within the hour, given their pace on horseback. Since his son had fallen silent, he figured it would be a rather peaceful journey from that point onward.

Dawn was beginning to break when they finally hitched their horses and, as per routine, Arthur began to unpack their supplies while Harlan went to arrange a room for the night. If there was time enough to be picky, he usually preferred to rent a room above or nearby a pub. In this instance, it was above. He could spend his evening with a whiskey glass in his hand and Arthur could go do... whatever Arthur liked to do. It was cheaper to rent a single room between them but Arthur would usually be passed out by the time Harlan returned in the early morning.

Harlan set his bags down by one of the two beds and took a moment to stretch his arms out, clicking his shoulders and back with a grunt of relief. "Right, I'm heading downstairs then," he announced, clapping his calloused hands together. Arthur's eyes found his father then, his lips pursed as he bit back words of disapproval. There were many things he wanted to say in that moment but they had repeated this particular conversation so many times in recent years that there almost wasn't any point - the judgement didn't help his father, sometimes it only made things worse. Still, Arthur was honest to a fault and could never quite manage to hide his true feelings on the topic. He turned his head without a word and began to rummage through one of his bags. Even without speaking, that said a lot.

It wasn't worth the argument, Harlan figured. They'd both spent far too long on the road together and the alone time would do them some good, not to mention he was itching for a drink. His flask had run empty the day before, despite his repeated attempts to ration his supply. He was heading out of the door when the stench first hit him; it didn't take long for the smell of Wendigos to permeate the entire room. Both men paused for a moment or two. "Well shit... that's gotta break some sort of a personal record, right?" Arthur murmured, gingerly peaking through a semi-open gap in the curtains. He got a decent view of it but only for a second. "One. Heading this way." Harlan instinctively grabbed his gun from beside the bed and joined Arthur at the window, though his eyes were scanning everything but the Wendigo. He wouldn't be of any use if it got too close to him; he needed a place to set up outside, preferably a rooftop or a window across the street. "You know the drill, yeah?" he whispered, pointing towards the door. "Take the machete and distract it while I sneak out. I need a clear shot."

Arthur didn't need to be told twice. His long legs allowed him to clear the room in two strides and he emerged from it to hear sounds of a commotion on the ground floor. People evacuating? he thought. He raced through the corridor as quickly as his legs could carry him, rounded the corner and cleared the staircase. As he did so, he surveyed the remaining patrons, some of whom were ducking behind makeshift barriers. Good idea. He dropped to a crouch and followed suit by tilting a table on its side, machete in one hand and his pistol in another. He eyed the people beside him, gesturing with his hand to capture their attention for a moment. "Sniper support across the street," he told them. "If we can get it out of here."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Talbot Character Portrait: Harlan Talbot Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Temperance Wheeler Character Portrait: Benjamin Lewis Character Portrait: Josephine Wyatt
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Revenant // Attire // Hex: #800000

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Scarlet remained silent as she observed the others getting behind overturned tables and other forms of protection, taking in the fact that they could at least follow simple orders. For now anyway. Just wait for things to start going south, and that's when things would fall apart. Hysteria and panic would take over and common sense would fly out the window. It always did. That is just one of the things that Scarlet found working around commonfolk, they let their fight or flight instincts take over, more often being flight and not caring about others. In her time, she had seen countless people push aside their supposed loved ones and make a run for it from a Wendigo or skinwalker, only to be killed in the end. Something she often questioned why loyalty went in scenarios like that. But then she had to remember, fear was a powerful thing, but that was something she hadn't let control her in years. She couldn't afford to.

Turning her head to look at the woman that she knew by now was the proper barkeep, she eyed the woman's weapon. Simple shotgun, but it would do more than nothing, or even a simple pistol. Thinking for a moment, before she dug around in one of her pockets, retrieving four golden color, rectangular and rounded objects. Handing them to the woman Scarlet spoke in a hushed voice, "Use those only when you have to. They won't kill them, but they'll do the trick when you most need them. So be smart with them." she said with a simple nod. They were normal shotgun shells but had one small difference. They weren't sold on the market to any average joe. Nor could they be bought in any black market or underground system. Revenants handmade them and more often than not kept a plentiful amount of hand, only if they knew for certain that they had the proper amount of ingredients for the buckshots. In this case, Scarlet knew she had at least eight left now, after giving the other woman four. She'd have to be careful and sparing with the ammo for now.

Looking around the tavern, Scarlet took into account how many people were left, all with weapons of their own. She knew they wouldn't do much against what was to come, but all that mattered was that they had something, anything to defend themselves at this point. If they could at least offer up a distraction or stall that left room for the Hunters and Revenants, that's all that mattered. Have enough of a window of time, that's all they needed. Her eyes darted around the saloon once more, and stopped as her eyes caught something from the back end of the saloon. A familiar face was poking around the corner, seeming to be looking for something, or someone. Scarlet knew full well, cursing under her breath she carefully and quickly maneuvered across the tavern and down the hallway where the person was. As Scarlet turned down the hallway that was off to the side, she was immediately pulled into a side room by some unknown force. By natural instinct, Scarlet reached for the pistol by her side, but soon found herself taking a deep breath as a familiar face stared her down. "Jesus Christ, Victoria. What the hell is wrong with you? Next time at least say something before you just pull me aside. You know what's out there-"

"I don't give a fuck. You really don't get it, do you? Three years, and now you're just back. Acting like nothing happened." Victoria said with a sour tone. Scarlet sighed softly as she was berated once more. She knew what was going to come, and she knew full well that Victoria had a point, and it was very well made. But now wasn't the time for this. Scarlet had to get back to the front of the saloon, the smell and feeling of dread was only looming closer by the second. They were running out of time. "I know, and I will explain everything. I promise. But now, now is not the time for this, Victoria. After this is over, I will explain everything. I promise. You just need to go and hide with the others...You'll know when it's safe to come out. Just, stay safe...Please" the Revenant said with a slight tone of fear and sadness in her voice. Showing that she at least did still genuinely care. The other woman simply nodded begrudgingly and began to make her way back to the others, before stopping and turning once more, "You just better come back in one piece this time, you hear me?" she called out, Scarlet gave a small nod, and a shadow of a smile appeared on her face for a moment before she turned and walked back down the hallway. Things would end differently this time, it had to.

Within a few short seconds, Scarlet was back in the main room of the tavern, as an unfamiliar face quickly ran down the stairs with a weapon in his hand, explaining how there was someone up on the roof as backup support. The revenant gave him a cold nod as her greyed eyes scanned him over for a minute. If she didn't know any better, he would easily be one to be looked over in a crowd. But she knew the way that people carried themselves, how he was dressed and the expression he bore. Hunter. But how much he could be counted on remained to be seen. It was evident enough that the creatures had made their way into town, as screams and gunshots rang out over the town. Perfect, just perfect.

"I'd assume you all know what to do. Don't get careless or reckless. And for the love of god, do not get stupid." she said coldly as she looked at the others, before crouching back down behind the table as loud and heavy footsteps were making their way to the saloon. And then silence. Except for the screams and cries of those outside, the footsteps stopped just right outside of those slatted saloon doors. There was nothing between them and the beast except for the tables, which wouldn't do much in the long run. Give them a few extra seconds before they'd have to run or be on their feet.

Scarlet took in a deep breath, taking into account of how many there were. Normally wendigos stayed by themselves, rarely ever being more than one at a time. Nevermind the number that she assumed, simply based off the scent alone. It was far too strong to just be one, nevermind two. Scarlet looked around, seeing who she could at least make silent eye-contact with. Holding up three fingers so the others could see. Hoping they understood what she was trying to get across without words.

Peering through one of the small cracks in the table, Scarlet was able to see the skeletal form of the creature. Its slender and boney arm slowly outstretched, pushing the saloon doors open as it shuffled its all too large and gangly sized form into the building. The creature had to keep its hunched over stature as he crept around the saloon, sniffing the air as its twitchy movements of the head took action. It was looking for some sign of prey. Observing its movements helped her better understand what kind it was. It was slower, more dependant on scent and feeling around for things as it evidently felt one of the walls with its all too long and boney hand. Scarlet could have sworn she felt her heart drop as the creature slowly passed by where she was hiding, and quickly tilted its head to look at her. Its glazed over eyes scanning intently, but seemed to be looking over them all. Which was proven as Scarlet raised her hand in front of the creature's face, and waved her hand. The only reaction that was given was the beast shuffled along further into the back, as if looking for something in particular. Especially as it continued to smell around certain objects. It was hunting something, or more so someone, but why? And more importantly, who?

She could have sworn she felt her heart sink even more as the creature began to slowly make its way to the hallway which lead to the backrooms and the bathing rooms of the saloon. Scarlet wasn't about to let that thing just waltz over to the defenseless people, not like this. Scarlet knew better, but she couldn't stop herself as she rose to her feet and crept around from the tables as silently as she could. Reaching around behind her, she retrieved her shotgun, checking to make sure there were shells. Four. Perfect. Stepping back, there was a loud creak of one of the older floorboards beneath her feet. Giving off her position. The Wendigo shot its head over to her direction, letting out a blood-curdling scream, it blindly scrambled over the tables and the others that were hiding to make its way to its target.

As the wendigo scrambled over closely, Scarlet gave a nod to the others, quickly firing off a single round into the beast as it enclosed its proximity to her. All the buckshot managed to do was stall the beast for a moment, and it was quickly lunging towards her once more, slamming her through the doors of the saloon and out into the street with incredible strength and speed. Scarlet didn't know what she felt first. The ice-cold boney hand of wendigo on her, or the feeling of being flung out of the saloon doors like a tin can and tossed into the street. The air was knocked out of her lungs as she hit the hard ground of the dirt street that she found herself laying on. Trying to gasp for air, weakly getting to her feet, Scarlet scrambled to regain her weapon that had been forced out of her hand and scattered to the other side of the street. But within seconds the Wendigo was upon her again, sinking its teeth into her shoulder, which caused Scarlet to let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Get the fuck off of me, you bastard." the revenant exclaimed, gripping the wendigo's shoulder and tried forcing it off of her. The wendigo didn't seem to care and only continued to sink its teeth further and further into her shoulder, beginning to pierce the bone. Scarlet wasn't going to let herself be eaten alive or be torn to shreds by a damn beast, not like this. Not like some rabid dog in the street. But she didn't know what happened first, the all too loud and familiar sound of an incinerary buckshot hitting the beast or the second the beast let go of her shoulder. But Scarlet quickly scrambled away from the beast as it recoiled in the flames that quickly overtook its body. She knew it would only last a few seconds and then the flames would quickly go out, "Aim for its head when on fire it's their weak spot!" she exclaimed, not expecting anyone to pay much attention as her eyes finally focused on the panic and chaos that took place in the streets.

Countless bodies laid strewn across the street. Half-eaten and dismembered by the other beasts blood-thirsty rampage. Scarlet got back to her feet as quickly as she could, grasping her shoulder for a moment, blood quickly covered her entire hand as the warm liquid oozed out from the grizzly wound on her shoulder. Just what she needed, Scarlet cursed to herself. Looking up to the rooftops, a few figures were seen. Obviously the backup that the the younger man had told her about earlier. But that on the roof of the saloon, so who was the one above one of the other stores? Scarlet didn't have much time to venture a guess, but she didn't much care to know, all she knew was that the figure was firing upon the wendigos whenever she had to chance to, something she could at least be grateful for. But something felt off about the figure, something Scarlet knew all too well. Another Revenant. At least there was a few others, as something always seemed to alert Revenants whenever another was around. Something she never fully got over. But now wasn't the time to dwell on this.

Scarlet managed to retrieve her shotgun, and as she took aim for one of the other wendigos, as best as she could with her now injured shoulder, something came from outside of her eyesight and slammed into her. The force alone was strong enough to fling her into the windows of one of the stores. The sound of glass and wood crashing and breaking under her weight and the force at which she was tossed so carelessly was the only thing she was able to take in. Letting out a small groan as she rolled onto her back as she laid on the floor of the building she was now in. Today really wasn't her day, and she was slowly growing tired of it. After a moment, Scarlet slowly rolled onto her side, and staggered to her feet, gripping her shoulder which now had fragments of shattered glass and wood now in the fresh wound. Cursing under her breath, Scarlet looked around her new environment. From the looks of it there were shelves with all kinds of varied items. She was in some sort of store. Figures.

The revenant let out a sigh, retrieving one of her pistols from her hip. She was slowly running out of patience. Looking to the side as she remembered hearing what sounded like a scream from behind the counter earlier. There was a rather young looking girl hidden behind the counter. Scarlet let out a small sigh and shake of her head, "I doubt you know how to use this, but it's better than nothing." she said rather coldly, tossing the pistol to the shopkeeper. "I'm going to want that back later though." Scarlet said, her tone lightened up slightly, giving a small wink to the girl before she turned and jumped out of the shattered and broken hole in the wall that used to be a large, glass bay window.

Her feet hit the wooden floorboards of the porch of the line of buildings she was on. Looking around Hunters were now out in full force as they shot at the beasts. From above and the street. Scarlet just wished this was already over. She didn't know if it was the pain in her shoulder or the fact that all she wanted was a peaceful drink at the local taverns. She just really wanted this to be over and done with. Eyeing her shotgun that was in the middle of the street, she quickly retrieved it, and hid alongside the side of one of the buildings. Swapping the regular buckshots for the other ammo she had with her. If only she could have gotten to her horse would she have been able to get her fire jars, but she didn't have the time for that. Keeping her head low and out of sight, only taking shots at the Wendigos when she had the opportunity to. This was going to be a long day, and an even longer night.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Josephine Wyatt
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addie meadowsweet
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Addie almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of a voice next to her. It was the hunter she'd seen enter the bar earlier, the one who'd put everyone else on edge. This close to her, Addie could see why. Those grey eyes were just too distinctive. But the woman handed Addie four shells. Addie nodded at the instruction to spare them. There were very few weapons that could really take down these creatures, and they were like gold dust. Best chance was just to try and minimise damage.

The Revenant stood up and went to check on something elsewhere in the tavern, and Addie kept her eyes focused on the doors. This wasn't the first time they'd had to defend themselves against an attack, but that didn't change the fact that they still suffered huge amounts of damage in them, and that they still lost far too many lives. And no matter how many times they went through them, they still never had much of a chance against the monsters.

The arrival of someone down the stairs had Addie looking at him down the end of the barrel, but once she recognised him as one of their own, she lowered the gun, scanning him quickly. She didn't have much of a chance to make a judgement on him though, as the sounds of screams and gunshots began. They were here, then.

She caught the revenant's eye as the woman silently held up three fingers. Well shit. Dealing with one of them was hard enough, let alone three. And one of them had just walked into her saloon. It became immediately obvious the creature was blind, which unfortunately, didn't make it any less dangerous. Their hearing more than made up for it. The creature, however, almost seemed to be looking for something or someone. When it started heading towards the back, where the unarmed were, the revenant jumped into action, and Addie checked her shotgun was loaded. Freshly loaded and ready to deal with trouble.

And then the revenant started that trouble by stepping on an old floorboard and giving away her position. The monster charged straight for her and slammed her out through the doors of the saloon, following it's target. The revenant would be the best suited to deal with that, Addie determined, and instead decided they needed to make sure the innocents got out okay. She caught the eye of the other hunter. "Help me get these out," she ordered, heading in to the back room. She had a back exit, out through the kitchens, and it might just get them far enough away from the fight and the monsters to avoid catastrophe. She threw open the door and started beckoning them out. "Run! Come on, before that thing comes back!" She called. If the monster came back and found them, they'd be sitting ducks, and Addie refused to let that happen in her goddamn saloon.




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david arthurs
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outfit | #3e5c59

God, of all days to come into town. If he'd stayed home on the ranch, he would have had time to at least be a little more prepared. The one good thing about all of this was that they at least seemed to have a decent few hunters around. Which was good, because David was pretty sure they were dealing with multiple wendigos.

He heard a voice screaming at him from the rooftop, asking if he was going to do anything. He silently swore, glancing up at the roof. The woman had been in the store too, but he hadn't paid all that much attention to her at the time. Apparently, she'd noticed him, though. He leaned over the overturned cart and fired two rounds into the creature, but that just seemed to piss it off more. He ducked back under cover in time for it to jump, as it leaped to the roof to try and attack the woman. David took the momentary distraction to reload the shotgun. As he looked up to try and aim at the wendigo again, he instead saw a figure jumping from the roof and crashing into the cart, destroying his cover.

The creature had noticed, however, and wasn't happy about it's target attempting to escape. As it launched itself into the air, David emptied a few more rounds into it. It slowed it down for just a second, and that was enough. David knew the only way to kill the thing was fire. Checking his pockets, he found what he was looking for in the form of a box of matches. David grabbed the woman and pulled her away from the cart, before throwing a lit match onto the cart. The dry wood caught easily and the wendigo screamed out in pain.

"You're welcome," he said, turning to face the woman. It was only then he caught a glimpse of those distinctive grey eyes and smirked. Of course she was a revenant too.

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Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Manuel Castillo Character Portrait: Josephine Wyatt
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The other hunter only stuck around just long enough for her to clear the tavern, before disappearing without a word. She just shook her head as she peered out back out on to the main street. As far as the destruction went, the tavern appeared to have fared relatively lightly. The window of the general store was smashed in, and a few other buildings looked a little worse for wear. At least that was something. And what was more, looking around, there only seemed to be one more of the creatures roaming around. It's behaviour patterns seemed to be that of a blind wendigo, which was a blessing and a curse. Blind wendigos presented their own issues.

There was a man standing a few hundred yards away from Addie. She didn't recognise him, which meant he probably hadn't been around all that much. Addie had learned to remember faces over the years, and she didn't think she'd forget that face in a hurry. From his stance, she figured this probably wasn't the first time he'd seen or dealt with something like this, but standing out in the street like that was dangerous, even if the wendigo was blind.

"If I were you, sir," she called, just loud enough for him to hear her, always keeping her eyes on the wendigo, "I'd keep moving. We've got this in hand, plenty of hunters in town today," she said as she reached him. "Don't want yourself getting caught up in a fight unless you really have to."

She wasn't quite sure what it was that drew the creature's attention towards them, whether it was their quiet discussion or something else entirely, or a complete coincidence, but the wendigo turned and fixed its cloudy gaze right on them. "If you're gonna run, run now, else you're helping me take down this thing," she said, fixing her shotgun on the monster. There was a few moments, probably just seconds, where neither moved. And then a gunshot from somewhere else made the creature scream, a bone-chilling sound, and charge right for her.

The shells the revenant had given her seemed to slow it down, but it didn't stop it either. A blow of it's powerful claws sent her flying, hitting the ground with enough force to drive the air from her lungs and daze her. She'd dropped the gun somewhere, but she wasn't physically capable of looking for it right then.




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david arthurs
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outfit | #3e5c59

David just rolled his eyes at the woman as she told him to deal with the last remaining wendigo, and turned to assess the situation. It was the blind one, but its attention was fixed on a number of individuals near the tavern. David scanned the area to see if there was anyone else who was better prepared to deal with it. He didn't see who took the shot at it, but all it seemed to do was anger it. It apparently decided the two nearest it were the easiest targets and charged towards them. David was already running towards them, gun in hand. Whatever weapon the woman had seemed to be slightly more effective than a normal shotgun, but she was still no match for it. The creature knocked her to one side.

"HEY!" He shouted, hoping to try and draw the Wendigo's attention away. The arrival of another person appeared to be enough to distract it for long enough for David to get closer, close enough for the creature to perceive him as an equal threat. He wasn't quite sure what his plan was, other than to find a way to set the creature alight, and try and draw it away from the regular townsfolk. He caught the man's eye and just hoped the man had enough sense to either run as soon as he could, or else know how to fight a wendigo. He raised his own gun and fired a shot at the creature, which was enough for it to turn and charge towards him. David turned and ran, knowing the wendigo would easily catch up, but wanting to draw him away from the townsfolk.

It caught up to him in even less time than he'd expected, tackling him and throwing him to the ground with what probably would have been enough force to knock anyone else out. But it only dazed him for a moment, before he felt the ice cold burn of claws tearing through clothes and skin. The creature was pinning him to the ground, and the stench was unbelievable. He acted almost instinctively, grabbing his gun and using it as a club, swinging it for the creature's head. It was enough to distract it for a moment, but not enough for him to get free, and if anything, it just seemed to enrage the monster.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harlan Talbot Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Manuel Castillo Character Portrait: Benjamin Lewis
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The shot reverberated across the street, and for a moment, Darcy held her breath with her knife gripped firmly in hand. At first the wendigo didn’t move, but an exhale later the sizzled sack of limbs collapsed to the ground, and it didn’t look like it was getting up anytime soon. Cautiously she crept forward, retrieving her empty pistol as she went, checking to be sure the monster was well and truly dead. It had been a direct shot to the head, damn near between the eyes from what she could tell around the dying flames, which was...admittedly impressive given the circumstances.

Darcy glanced up grudgingly, catching the man’s arm move as he waved her to get out of the street. Shouldering her pack, Darcy nodded with a quick two finger salute, intent on doing just that and tracking down Benji...and that’s when she remembered the second wendigo. Which, life imperiled adrenaline rush or not, was a stupid thing to forget about. Whipping her head around, she still saw the charred corpse of the woman lying in the street, but there was no smoldered wendigo to be seen. It had moved on, the noise from the shot would have drawn it this way undoubtedly otherwise. A cold shiver swept down her spin as her thoughts followed the logical path to who it might have followed.

Another shot blasted from around the corner, and Darcy was off and running before she had time to really think it through. That had most certainly been a shotgun, which wasn’t Benji’s weapon of choice at all. Who she found though had her refocusing on the here and now. Addie was sprawled in the dirt, clearly having taken a hit. There was another man standing nearby, probably a civilian, though a brave one if he was standing with them out in the open without developing into a panicking mess. Up street, tackling a man to the ground, Darcy caught sight of the wendigo, another one. “Unfuckingbelievable…” She growled under her breath, rummaging in her pack to find a match, and the second to last jar of fire starter. They were going to be in serious trouble if there were many more of these things…

Darcy lit the ragged fuse, and picked up a rock from the dirt road. This was flying by the seat of her pants, but there wasn’t time to parse a real plan through. That guy was going to get himself ripped apart if she didn’t do something fast, so moving up the street as quick and quietly as she could, Darcy chucked the rock through a store window about fifteen feet away from it. Glass shattered and hit the ground in a chorus of destruction, and the wendigo’s head whipped around, lunging at the sound of possible threat. As soon as it was clear of the man, Darcy tossed her fiery payload into the mix, and for the third time that day, flames danced across melting skin as a wendigo shrieked in rage.

David had almost all but given up hope, having dropped his gun just a little out of reach. The pain from the wounds on his side were burning like hell and sapping his energy, meaning that he couldn’t fight as hard as he wanted to. But when glass shattered somewhere to his right and the monster’s head whipped around, he found a new surge in energy, managing to scramble for his gun as the creature lunged towards the new sound. A jar full of flames sailed towards the creature, and David didn’t waste time trying to see where it came from. He barely even took the time to line up the shot properly, firing a few rounds into the wendigo. It let out one final shriek and fell to the ground. He watched it for a few seconds to make sure it was down for good, before struggling back to his feet. Things were almost too quiet now, and he didn’t dare let himself believe that was it.

He searched his surroundings and spotted a woman standing nearby. He wasn’t sure they’d ever really crossed paths before, but one look and he knew she was a hunter. They all had a certain look to them.

“Thanks.” he called, his usual wordy nature a little beyond him right about then.

Pop pop pop pop! It seemed the guy wasn’t as down for the count as Darcy had previously thought. Good thing too, since she hadn’t had time to reload her own pistol. They both waited a moment with baited breath as the man got back to his feet. When it became clear the monster wasn’t getting back up again, Darcy let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly the sound of three shots, in quick sequence, a short distance away, only a street over maybe, but after that it was silent. Was it over? Hard to tell.

“Don’t mention it.” Darcy replied offhandedly, suddenly less surprised this guy was up and moving once she caught a glimpse of his eyes. “You’re going to need to have that looked at, come one.” Even revenants needed medical attention, and while those wounds didn’t look fatal, infection was no joke. She needed to find Benji, but Addy was hit, and this guy was hurt. Checking them over had to be the priority. Darcy had to constantly remind herself that her little brother was a lot stronger these days than his babyface suggested, but old habits die hard. One thing at a time.

The woman was definitely a hunter. It took a certain kind of person to remain so calm after that and those people were almost always hunters. “Don’t tell me, you’re a nurse as well as a hunter?” He remarked, raising an eyebrow playfully, but he obliged in following her. He was used to dealing with various types of injuries from the farm, but she was right, these weren’t the type of wounds he could just bandage up and hope for the best. Even if that had been his initial plan. “Name’s David.”

Darcy couldn’t help a snort. She’d seen her fair share of wounds from a wendigo hunt, and she was a steady hand with a needle and thread in whiskey wash, but she wasn't the first one anyone should be running to. This David character was in trouble if he was in a bad enough way to need someone with a real medical background and was stuck with her.

“Enough to patch you up in a pinch, but let's see if we can get a real doc to take a look at you before we roll the dice on me yeah?” Darcy asked with a raised brow of her own as they headed back over to Addie and the other man in the street. She needed to make sure her friend was alright as well. “Darcy. I’d say nice to meet you, but given the circumstances, I’d say we’ve both had a less than delightful evening thus far.” She remarked, before approaching her friend, carefully checking for injuries.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Talbot Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Manuel Castillo Character Portrait: Benjamin Lewis
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Arthur Talbot. Benji’s eyes seemed locked with the taller man’s, an unfamiliar sensation of warmth starting low and spreading across his skin. It distracted him for a moment, as Arthur comforted Simon, their fingers intertwined in hopeful promise. A fond smile twisted his lips as Benji watched, trying to take the measure of this man who had risked his person to come to their aid. Beyond an exterior beauty that was easy to see, there was a solidness and honesty about him that Benji found intriguing. His sister had always been far better at understanding people, but Benji had a sense for their character that was hard to explain. Darcy didn’t always trust it, but Benji’s instincts hadn’t led him astray with someone’s nature yet. Arthur seemed to him like a towering Red Oak, a strong and most dependable sort of tree, and it made Benji inclined to like him without question. The three of them seemed almost disconnected from the violent world around them in that moment, like floating in a warm haze. So when movement rustled again at the opening of the alley, shattering Benji free of the strange feeling, he…possibly over reacted. Pulling Arthur and Simon suddenly back and behind him, away from the movement he sensed, Benji reached for his knife, and wasn’t particularly inclined to lower it when he saw the face of the first man who joined them.


They were greeted first by a whistle, the older man’s eyes scanning the dead wendigo before dark eyes met Benji’s. “Don’t tell me this is your handwork Lewis, Baby Benji all grown up?” Elias Nash called out with a sly look, his eyes roaming up next to get a glimpse of who was behind him. The boy he recognized, the man he did not. Simon was Tessa’s kid, and with a slight wince, remembered the woman’s corpse as they’d come down the street. Looked like Simon was on his own now, which was no safe thing to be for a kid in Blackwater. It also wasn’t his problem, so like other uncomfortable feelings, he shoved the guilt away. “Where’s that sister of yours? Aren’t you two usually joined at the hip?”

“Hardly your business.” Benji replied coldly. There were a hundred reasons Benji disliked Nash, not least of which was the fact Benji never walked away from the man without feeling condescended to. If it wasn’t outright lying and scheming with the man, you could count on being insulted at least three times in any conversation before walking away, not to mention you’d best check your pockets. His employer was another reason very high on that list. If Elias Nash was asking after Darcy, it was for him, and that thought stirred something primal deep in his chest.

“Relax kid, we’re just doing a headcount. I saw her duck round the corner a bit ago, but haven’t caught sight of her since.” Another, more welcome voice called out, appearing with a donkey drawn cart that had the remains of one Wendigo already piled on. Angus McClain was a gruff old timer in Blackwater. He’s owned his own medical practice supposedly once upon a time, but most of his medical work these days was patching up hunters, amongst whose ranks he was generally counted. Benji had known the man since he was a child, having been a frequent face in the Lewis household until there'd been a falling out with Deacon. Gus had only moved back to Blackwater a few years prior, but there was still affection there for the old family friend.

“Yeah, relax kid. Put that knife down before you hurt somebody huh?” Nash couldn’t resist throwing in another dig.


“Nash, get yer weasel ass over here and help me with this thing. You ain’t gettin’ paid to stand around and talk like you did somethin today.” Gus snapped as he walked over to the monster’s corpse.

“Benji, why don’t you take yer friends here and go find yer sister. People are starting to congregate, and it’s best if ya don’t get yerself caught out here alone.” Gus continued with a pointed look as he and Nash heft the wendigo onto the cart. “The danger’s passed fer now, but there’s a lot of angry folk milling about, ya hear me? I’ll be along quick as I can.” Benji understood his meaning. People weren’t often comfortable with revenants at the best of times, when they were scared and angry that discomfort could turn into something else much more dangerous.

“Of course.” Benji nodded at the older man’s warning, carefully putting the knife away before turning back to Simon and Arthur, extending his hands to grasp theirs as he turned them to the other exit to the alley. “I think it’s best we go this way.”


------------

As the last of the danger seemed to have passed, the people of Blackwater began to emerge. From the wreckage of some of the damaged shops, and other hiding spots, more and more anxious faces ventured out, trying to get a glimpse of the aftermath from the attack they’d just suffered. A quick scan of the area to check over the living people assembled had Darcy satisfied they weren’t dealing with any life threatening injuries at the moment. David seemed to have the most serious wound among them, so once they got a doc flagged down, he’d take priority. Ushering David over to a bench by the saloon, Darcy set her pack down and began rummaging to see what supplies she even had that could be counted as medical. Outside of a needle and thread and spare shirt (Which given the state of her own with the left sleeve torn clear to ribbons, she may be needing herself after a bit.), things didn’t look promising. Another glance down the street, and she could see Doc Anderson was busy with some other survivors, and from the amount of blood she could see from even this far away, it looked like he'd be busy for a while. Gus was also nowhere in sight.

“Hey bring out some clean water, soap, linens, and whisky would you?!” Darcy called out to another hunter she knew in passing as he stumbled out of the saloon. Dale something, shaky hands, but a surprisingly steady shot. He nodded quickly before running back inside to fetch what she’d asked.

“Alright, let’s get that thing off.” Darcy turned back to David, indicating his shirt. “We might be on the waiting list, but we can at least try and get that wound cleaned up.” The requested supplies had just arrived when a woman approached, calling out a greeting and asking after them. Darcy turned to face her and stopped short.

Another one? One glance at the woman’s eyes was all it took for Darcy to know she was now face to face with yet another revenant. Living with one hadn’t exactly robbed the mystique of that whole condition for Darcy, as the Lewis siblings had never exactly sought them out for guidance on Benji’s situation, but it did make her conscious to be polite. Watching how people treated Benji with general unease or outright hostility, changed Darcy’s outlook on some things. There might be some aspects of that whole business Darcy found uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going to flinch away from them either.

“Thanks.” Darcy offered with a hand extended out in greeting, eye contact firmly maintained. “Darcy Lewis. Good to meet you Red.” She continued, giving the woman a full glance over as she noticed the bandaged shoulder. It was good work, whoever had done it, but there were already spots of blood seeping through the bandages, so that wound had to be nasty.

“Are you okay?” Darcy asked, a little incredulous, shifting to take a closer look. That had to be incredibly painful. How was she standing here talking so nonchalantly and asking after them?! Darcy had heard revenents had a pretty high pain threshold, but this was insane.

“I think you should come over here and take a seat. We’ll get a doctor to take a look at that.” Darcy said firmly with a pointedly stubborn look. Picking up her pack to make room on the bench, she patted the spot in a manner more order than invitation.

------

Benji hadn’t really been sure what to talk about as they made their way around to the main street. Darcy had a talent for clever words that reminded him of their creek, flowing, babbling along as it surged and adapted to always find a clear path forward. He felt stilted by comparison, never sure if what he’d said was about to cause awkward silence or offense. Sometimes people laughed, which wasn’t so bad. It never stopped him from speaking, but for one he very much cared about his words' reception. So far, Simon seemed interested enough.

“The trick is to never let the Blue Jays catch on first. They never play fair with the other birds, but the Crows will sometimes bring presents if they decide to stay and like the food enough.” Benji chattered on as they carefully discussed the woods near his home.

“So they’ll just come to your hand?” Simon asked a little awed, both hands held in a gentle grip from his two rescuers.

“Some will. Once they know you better.” Benji amended, not wanting to get the boy’s hopes up too high for a first attempt. Once they made it to the main street, it became clear Gus was right, there were suddenly quite a number of people out on the street. Back by Addie’s saloon, he could see a few familiar faces, his sister’s included, and he was relieved to see she looked relatively unharmed. He navigated them along the less crowded parts of the street, careful to avoid the wendigo corpse and sheriff’s men milling about as they went.

“I’m glad you aren’t too injured.” Benji said by way of greeting when they reached the bench Darcy appeared to have claimed with a pair of unfamiliar faces. He glanced at them curiously with a smile before looking back to his sister, who’d turned immediately to start checking him over zealously for injuries. “I’m not hurt.” Benji said patiently, used to the treatment by now.

”I got worried when you didn’t come back.” Darcy confessed, noting the man with him before turning to the child, the same boy who’d thrown the rock at the wendigo in the street.

“This is Simon.” Her brother introduced solemnly. “He’s going to be staying with us.” He continued with a finality that had Darcy reeling a moment to catch up. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Benji’s eyes said, and between that, and this Simon’s hopeful puppy dog eyes peering up at her, Darcy was left defenseless. She gave her brother a slightly sour look, wishing they’d at least had a chance to talk about options first before making big public promises in front of the kid, but her eyes softened when they met Simon’s. “It’s alright kiddo. We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of alright.” She confirmed with a soft smile for him.


“Who’s your friend?” Darcy asked, glancing over at the other man holding Simon’s hand.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Temperance Wheeler Character Portrait: Manuel Castillo Character Portrait: Josephine Wyatt
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in the end, everyone is aware of this:
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxnobody keeps any of what he has,
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Temperance couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the action in the streets. There was a part of her that knew she would be better off not looking; violence wasn’t something she was particularly fond of, but something about not watching the work of the brave souls fighting the monsters felt wrong to her. So she watched. She noticed when the woman who’d previously been up on the roof slipped away, though just barely through the chaos in the streets. Tempe didn’t pay her much mind.

It wasn’t long before it seemed to be over, and people were out on the streets again; tending to the wounded, checking to make sure their friends and family weren’t among the dead. Temperance had half a mind to run straight home to her parents, check in on her sisters.

Her fingers shook slightly as she unlocked the doors of the shop, the thought that there wasn’t much point in staying locked up when the window busted out did occur to her, but she brushed it aside in favor of flinging the doors open and stepping out into the street. Almost instinctively, she started to look around. Who was she looking for? She didn’t know, but perhaps she would know when she found them.

She spotted her, the woman who’d crashed through the window, given her a gun, and then left. Temperance almost didn’t even remember her asking for the gun back, but she figured she’d probably like to have it. Tempe felt comforted by the presence of Darcy and Benji, as familiar faces tended to do.

The hunter- revenant- looked… Worse for wear. Really, the entire group was in various states of injury, or lack thereof. Still, Temperance didn’t want to be stuck with someone else’s gun; didn’t need to be accused of something she hadn’t done. “Um, thank you,” She smiled, glancing at the man sharing the bench with the revenant. He was the other one that had been in her shop, then she looked at Darcy, “If you need anything from the shop, it’s yours. They put me in charge today, so I recon I can make that call.” She turned back to the woman who’d lent her the gun, and held it out to her, so she could return it, “I didn’t need it. Thank you, though.”


hello~



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M A N U E L CASTILLO
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The woman who called out to him seemed pretty confident. Plenty of hunters in town, so they likely could handle things just fine, so when she suggested he move on, it was tempting. But he would have felt guilty leaving the woman to deal with the creature, especially now that she was more than an abstract idea. “Miss, I don’t doubt that you all-”

He stopped mid-sentence when the creature turned to them. Frankly, the blind ones had always scared him the most; it was hard to tell if they’d really locked on to you, or if the creature would move on. The woman mentioned running, or else helping her take down the wendigo. In his mind there really wasn’t much of a choice; he wasn’t about to leave this woman alone with a monster, regardless of how confident she was in her own abilities. He’d started to quickly look around, see if there was anywhere better to lead the monster, anything they could use to more easily light it up, when a stray round of gunfire spooked the beast.

As the creature charged, Manuel took a few instinctive steps back. Whatever rounds the woman had in her gun worked better than standard bullets, but it wasn’t quite enough. A pang of guilt hit Manny’s chest as the creature sent her flying; as if there was much he could have done in the first place. He knew he didn’t have much time, and he needed to get the wendigo’s attention off of the woman, or else there was a good chance she’d wind up pretty badly hurt.

Of course, some idiot yelling was a good way to change the beast’s attention, too. Manny wondered briefly if the man had a plan, and it quickly became apparent that no, he didn’t have a plan, or even anything resembling one. It was tempting to let the guy lay in the bed he’d made, but Manny found himself looking down the street, mentally grasping for something he could do. The woman running up the street looked like she had it more under control, so he turned back to the woman who’d been knocked to the ground.

“You alright, miss?” Clearly, the woman had seen better days, but she didn’t appear to be badly hurt. Still, Manny felt bad that she'd taken the hit at all.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Manuel Castillo
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Addie found herself lying in the dirt for a few minutes, trying to catch her breath. Judging by the commotion, it sounded like someone else was dealing with the wendigo, so she figured that her best bet was to not do anything stupid for now. She managed to sit up, wincing a little as she did so. But she was pretty sure nothing was broken anyway, and her head was clear, so that was really all she could ask for. A voice from beside her made her turn. It was the man from earlier, and she managed a smile.

“Nothin’ a stiff drink won’t fix,” she said, getting to her feet as if to prove a point. “Name’s Adelaide, but most folks round here call me Addie,” she said, holding out a hand. “Them buggers are tricky enough to deal with, I reckon we got lucky,” she remarked, glancing back down the street just in time to see Darcy and an unfamiliar man heading back towards her. Even from a distance, she could see the man’s eyes were too pale for him to be human, and the wounds on his side looked far too nasty for any human to survive, let alone be up and walking around after. But when Darcy reached them, her first priority was to check on Addie.

“I’m fine, really. Gonna hurts like hell in the mornin’ but nothing serious,” she said, shaking her head. “Looks like your friend there’s got bigger problems.” Darcy seemed to be in agreement as she turned her attention to him, and Addie turned back to Manny. “I better check what damage was done to my tavern. Could probably use an extra pair of hands,” she remarked. He looked strong, or at least, stronger than her, which was useful in a clean up operation like this.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Talbot Character Portrait: Harlan Talbot Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Darcy Lewis Character Portrait: Benjamin Lewis
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“Darcy Lewis.” The hunter answered, catching this Arthur’s hand for a firm but comfortable shake. Polite and sturdy were Darcy’s first impressions, and she gave an answering smile of her own as they exchanged pleasantries. “Likewise. I assume you’re who I have to thank for keeping this one out of trouble?” Her tone was light, but the gratitude was genuine as her green eyes shifted back to her brother, who indeed appeared to be unharmed, almost miraculously so given what they’d faced in the streets.

“Arthur’s rescue was very timely.” Benji added helpfully with a smile, before turning his curious gaze to the two individuals his sister had cowed into sitting on the bench. A quick glance at their eyes told him they were both Revenants. That was interesting. Benji hadn’t had many dealings with others like himself, and now there were suddenly two sitting right there, injured and properly corralled by his sister. The sight was almost comical.

The arrival of the next man however was less so, despite his attempt at humor. Benji had tensed at first, unsure of this stranger’s intent, but his shoulder relaxed at Arthur’s apparent familiarity with the older hunter. The gentle touches and assessing eyes were easy to overlook, but Benji had been on the receiving end from Darcy enough times to recognize a gruff intimacy shared between family. They weren’t being threatened.

“Did I tell you to move?” Darcy snapped, as both the geniuses on her bench decided clamoring to their feet while bleeding out from nasty wendigo wounds was just a swell idea. Tough as nails or not, they weren't going anywhere until they'd gotten at least some basic care. She already had a clean rag dampened with the strongest proof liquor Dale could find behind Addie’s counter. Red seemed to think David’s wound would heal up fine on it’s own, which was true enough, Darcy was familiar with Revenents, and knew how fast they healed comparatively. A glance at the wound with his shirt off made Darcy think it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, which was a good sign, but there’s was no reason to take needless risks by not a least cleaning and wrapping it up.

“This is gonna sting.” Darcy warned, bringing the dry side of the cloth down to wipe away the blood first, then the damp side to cleanse it as best she could. It already looked a little better than it had a bit ago, though she doubted David was going to feel good anytime soon. Once that was done, Darcy turned to Benji, pointing at the linens. “Think you can wrap his wound up while I take a look at Red?” Benji nodded solemnly, picking up the clean bandages and moving over to David.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” Benji said kindly as he began wrapping bandages carefully around the wounded man’s torso. “I’m Benji by the way. Good to meet you.”

Darcy hadn’t made it much past wincing while Red undid her bandages before the man who’d bustled in a moment ago addressed her with a careful warning. She recognized him as the sniper on the roof from earlier who'd helped her kill the first wendigo in the street, and she stood by her original assessment that he was clearly an experienced hunter, if lacking in a general sense of tact based on his entrance. This close up, a quick glance told her he was a bit older, but also framed with obvious muscle, observant dark eyes, and a pair of smugly quirked cupid bow lips full enough to --Nope, full stop. That line of thinking was definitely not helpful, and Darcy blamed the day’s insane influx of adrenaline for indulging it as far as she had.

“Right...gratitude has never been a Blackwater specialty.” Darcy agreed dryly with the sound advice, tearing her eyes away to scan the growing crowd. The sooner they could move inside the better, but there was no way she and Benji were going to be able to leave town until at earliest tomorrow. Given the pensive faces glancing back their way from the crowd, Darcy found that reality regrettable, but one familiar face helped ease her rising tension. As Gus steered the wagon up the street their way, Darcy rummaged out a few coins and turned to Simon.

“Hey kiddo, I’ve got a job for you. Think you’re up for it?” Darcy asked carefully. When Simon nodded, with serious brown eyes older than a kid his age should have, she placed the coins in his hand and jerked a thumb back toward Addie’s saloon. “I need you to head inside and find Miss Addie. You give her those, and tell her Darcy needs a room. Once that’s done I need you to scout it out and make sure everything’s in good shape okay. Can you help me out with that?” He nodded again, and task given, Simon took the coins before bounding inside the saloon to do as he was asked.

Gus parked the wagon with its grizzly cargo just a little ways off, before climbing down with his surgery bag and moving toward them. “Oh good ya are alive. Nice ta know the Lewis clan is too stubborn to die as usual, no matter how half cocked the lot of ya like runnin’ into danger the first chance ya get!” Gus wasted no time laying in as he glanced at Red’s shoulder and started digging through his bag. “Flying in with no backup, no cover, against two fuckin’ wendigos...I outta tear ya a new one.” Gus groused in a way only a curmudgeonly grandfather can really pull off. “And I would, but ya got trouble heading yer way. Nash was lookin’ for ya, which means Reyens is. I shook ‘im for a head start, but he ain’t too far behind.” He said looking sour.

The name Reynes made Darcy grimace. “The hell does he want?” She bit out harsher than she’d meant to, but she’d been free of that man for years, and she sure as hell didn’t want anything to do with him now.

“My guess, it’s about the kid that brother of yours picked up. Boy’s mama was one of his girls.” Gus warned softly, pulling out a needle, thread, and some honest to god rubbing alcohol from his bag as he turned to address Red’s shoulder as best he could.

“Fuck…” Darcy swore under her breath, suddenly very glad she’d sent Simon to relative safety inside the saloon. Gus didn’t have to say the obvious, no one worked as a girl down at the Red Pony unless they owed Malachi Reynes more money than they knew how to pay back, and he wasn’t the type to let debts die with the parent. She should know.

“Well, isn’t this quite the intimate little gathering.” A voice called out of the crowd as a dark, impeccably dressed figure sauntered up their way. “I had hoped to discuss a matter of business with you Miss Lewis, but I fear the surprise may have been ruined somewhat.” He drawled, ringed fingers fiddling idly with the jeweled crow head of his cane.

“Condolences appear to be in order for the passing of Miss Tessa Grey, my deepest sympathies of course. There is however, the matter of her debt, which I fear still needs resolved.” Darcy strode out to meet him before he fully made it to the group, trying to create as much of a barrier between their injured party, and the predator in their midst, that she could.

“Her body’s not even cold yet, and you’re shaking her kid down for money?” Darcy spit back, unable to hide the disgust she felt from her eyes. Her look managed to be more diplomatic than Benji’s though. No one could see the look in his silver eyes as he gazed at Reynes as anything less than loathing.

“I’m afraid the interest rate on her initial loan does not favor such niceties, as the total has already reached a not inconsequential Seventy Five dollars. I’m sure the boy and I can come to an arrangement though on how to most...expediently pay off such a large sum.” Darcy swallowed bile at that thinly veiled suggestion, managing to keep her lip from curling in an outright snear.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Darcy stated firmly, standing as a physical barrier between Reynes and the rest of the group as much as possible. She knew how he played this game, and leverage was always key. “I imagine reclaiming whatever you convinced that poor woman to buy from you in the first place-”

“A sewing machine.” Reynes supplied helpfully in a jovial tone that belied the fact this was just a game for him, an amusing opportunity to pass the time in the presence of those who could not afford to escape it. It made a temper flare in Darcy all over again, but she knew better than to fall into that trap.

“Will be the quickest way to do that. Take it, and anything else valuable in their house, and fuck off.” Darcy finished dryly. “Odds are, you’ll come out on top with that, and if not, I’ll cover the difference.”

“That’s an interesting...first offer.” Reynes grinned, trying to lean into her space. It was a common power play she’d seen the man use a hundred times, but Darcy wasn’t fifteen anymore, and knew better than to shrink away, even if his close proximity made her skin crawl.

“Only offer.” Darcy growled back quietly. “Take the deal, and leave him the hell alone, or I swear, I will kick up such a holy goddamn fuss in town about what we both know goes on in that backroom, that even your buddy Jamison won’t shield you from the storm if you even look in Simon’s direction wrong” Threats were a gambit, but Darcy was betting the potential trouble would outweigh any benefit for dragging this game out much longer.


“And you know what happens if you choose that route. Hardly a sunset ending my dear.” He replied softly, his dangerous tone. Malachi Reynes never yelled before he killed people.

“You’re not getting him either way. Take it or leave it.” Darcy repeated firmly, trying to appear more confident in her bluff than she felt.

Silence hung heavily for a few moments, until: “Well then, it appears we have a solution. That’s what I always liked about you my dear, you always had a talent for figuring out how to pay off other peoples’ debts.” Reynes replied with a cutting smile. “You may find yourself in the coming days, in need of a powerful friend Miss Lewis, a...benefactor if you will. I look back on our past association quite fondly, and would not be adverse to renewing it once again. Same terms.”


“I’ll pass, thanks.” Darcy offered a caustic grin of her own, before turning on her heel and back to Gus, refusing to look back to see if Reyes was still lingering about.


“There, it’s handled. How’s the shoulder?” Darcy shifted back to the more immediate problem at hand. It still looked painful and angry to Darcy’s eye, with no amount of stitching able to hide the chuck just missing, but she could see where Gus had cleaned and stitched what he could, as he began rewrapping Red’s shoulder.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Addie Meadowsweet Character Portrait: Scarlet Ingles Character Portrait: David Arthurs Character Portrait: Temperance Wheeler Character Portrait: Manuel Castillo
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  1. And there they go; gone but not forgotten. Thanks again, guys, for being so wonderful. I really loved writing with and getting to know you all. <3

    by phosphene

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in the end, everyone is aware of this:
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxnobody keeps any of what he has,
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Temperance smiled at the woman (revenant?) who’d crashed through the window, and for a moment considered insisting she keep the money. In the end, Tempe took the money with a smile. Maybe her mother wouldn’t blow a gasket about a broken window if they had a bit of money to help pay for it’s replacement. “Thank you,” She said, her voice laced with sincerity, “For this and, you know, the monsters.” Temperance knew that she was probably lucky to be alive. Had there not been people in town able to fight off the threat, casualties very likely would have been much worse than what she could already see. Almost absently, she wondered if any creatures had been out past this part of town. A bit of worry grew in her stomach as she thought of her parents; their home was just outside the main part of town.

Then the man who’d been in the store right before the attack (he looked familiar enough) thanked her for offering up supplies. She shrugged, “Well, y’all saved the town. Feels like the least I can do.”

When Malachi Reynes was mentioned, Temperance took that as her cue to leave. She didn’t know Reynes personally, but everyone in town knew who he was, and most parents spent at least a little time warning their children to give the man a wide breadth. “I’ve, uh, got some cleanin’ to do. Thank you, again.” With a nod, and one last smile, she excused herself.

The walk back to the store wasn’t a long one, and once she got there, she realized that she just wanted to be home more than anything. Quickly, she gathered up her things, collected the cash from the drawer, and headed back out the door. She’d offered the hunters anything they needed from the store, so she decided not to lock up (honestly, with a broken window it would be easy enough for anyone to get in the shop anyway). She briefly wondered if she should stop in to check on her sisters on her way back home, and decided that it was for the best. That way she could tell her parents how they were when she arrived home.

Hannah and the children were fine- she said she’d thought she’d be happy to have them home sick with pox. Temperance didn’t go inside to see them, she had to get home. Grace didn’t come to the door, which was worrying, but Temperance hoped that they were safe, too. Hopefully they’d been able to shelter somewhere, if they were out.

When she got home, Temperance was so relieved to see that everything looked exactly the same as it always had. The creatures hadn’t gotten that far. She could only hope that she never had to see another one of them again. She ran inside, hugged her mother, and finally let all the fear she’d felt flow freely from her body in the form of tears. She told her parents everything as she cried, and then she went to clean herself up a bit, before she and her mother went to start doing what they could about the store.





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M A N U E L CASTILLO
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i felt a tremendous distance
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Clearly, Addie was a tough woman. Normally, Manny would have offered to help her up, but she didn’t seem to have any trouble getting to her feet on her own. He shook her hand when she offered it, and returned her own introduction with a brief, but not impolite introduction of his own. “Manny.” He’d found that most people he’d encountered since leaving Texas had preferred to use his nickname, so over time that had just become his default.

He glanced around the town during Addie’s short exchange with the other woman; a lot of damage had been done. He’d only just arrived, but he felt a strong urge to get out of the situation ahead of him. People had the nasty habit of blaming the wrong people when bad things happened. He didn’t think he wanted to stick around and face that blame. When Addie mentioned that she could use some help cleaning up her tavern, there was a very real part of Manuel that wanted to agree. She was beautiful, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice. “I’d love to help,” This was where an apologetic smile crossed his face, “But I think it may be best if I get moving along. Outsiders are easy to blame when things go wrong.” He knew that from experience. “Best of luck to you. Hope the damages don’t put you under.” That wasn’t, perhaps, the most helpful thing to say, but it was true.

Before he knew it, he was back with Miel. They could stop at the next town; heaven knows they could survive a little while longer on the road. They’d both been through hell, and they’d likely go through hell again. But not today. Manny was going to avoid any more trouble if he could.