We're Dead, No Redemption

High Ho, High Ho, It's Off to Hunt We Go

"Mister Morgan!"
Arthur turned away from watching the horses. Pearson-a tall and round man with long hair and a mustache-struggled through the snow to meet up with the cowboy.
"I apologize if I'm disturbing something, Arthur," he started. "We've run out of provisions for both cookin' and eatin'. The people here can't eat if I don't cook, and I can't cook-"
"If we don't hunt," Arthur finished, a small smile on his face. Pearson laughed and nodded. "Alright, I'll get on it."
Arthur started walking to his new horse when Pearson stopped him again. "Why don't you bring Charles?" He asked. "He's been raring to go since we got here. Wants to study the wildlife."
"Why don't you get Charles and I'll see if this horse is actually broken in or not." Arthur motioned to the Tennessee Walker stallion now in their midst.
"Fair enough, mister Morgan," Pearson said. He patted Arthur's shoulder and walked off to find the native man.
Arthur moved carefully over to the stallion. With dark brown splatters of colour over a white hide, he was kind of hard to see, but also kind of hard to miss. The stallion had appeared next to the other men's horses the night they'd burgled an O'Driscoll party and refused to leave, seeming very spooked about something. Arthur wisely decided to stick with Maggie until the horse calmed down. The woman the group had found in the robbed home-a widow named Sadie, whose husband was killed by O'Driscolls-wound up riding double with him.
Arthur couldn't help feeling glad he wasn't the one sitting on the back of the saddle anymore.
The pinto stallion lifted his head quickly when Arthur arrived. Arthur raised his hands slowly. "It's okay, boy," he spoke softly to the horse. "You're alright."
The horse's ears flicked forewords. Arthur smiled slightly. "You're a tall one, aren't you, boy?"
"You wanted me, Arthur?"
Charles' voice made the horse jump, which made Arthur jump. Charles wound up trying to hide a smile by the time Arthur calmed down the stallion (and his nerves). Neither one figured out why until they figured out Arthur's hand was on the horse's shoulder.
"Bonded with him already, I see," Charles said. "Have you gotten on his back yet?"
Arthur and the horse looked at each other for a bit. The horse sniffed at the cowboy's shirt, moving his head away when Arthur strokes his ears. "Not yet," the cowboy admitted. "I wasn't sure if he's broken to ride or not."
"What do you think he's wearing that saddle for?" Charles pointed out the obvious. "Fun?"
"Ha ha," Arthur snarked, pulling himself onto the horse's back. To his relief, the only reaction he got was the horse backing up slightly to find footing in the snow.
Arthur worked the stiff new reins in his hands as Charles mounted his mare. His new horse responded very well to the slightest signal-squeezing the reins at a halt made him back up, moving the reins slightly made him turn, touching his sides gently made him walk foreword. Arthur liked him already.
Charles waved to Mr. Pearson watching in the building and the two men rode away.

"You can call to the deer before you shoot, if you're aiming correctly you'll get a headshot.."
Arthur struggled with the bow Charles had given to him earlier. He watched in envy as the native man beside him easily pulled back the string, aimed and whistled. The group of three doe lifted their heads for a brief few seconds before turning tail to run, though one didn't get far.
Arthur snuck over to check on the doe. A clean kill, arrow straight between her eyes.
"She's thin," Charles noted, startling Arthur by coming up beside him. "It's been a hard winter, for us and the wildlife."
Arthur watched his friend pull the arrow out of the doe's head and pick up the body, flinging it over his shoulder. "Try and follow the other two," he said. "We'll need two to feed all our mouths."
"I'm on it," Arthur sighed. Charles' little amused smile came again as he walked back towards the horses.
About an hour of tracking, trial and error later, Arthur struggled to get his stubbornly stiff bow and equally stiff fingers to co-operate with one another. He wished he could just use his pistol to kill both does and be done with it, but you can't eat meat that's been shot haphazardly by a gun. These seemed like pretty dumb deer anyways, maybe they'll stick around this spot long enough for him to figure out his weapon-
A heavy footstep crunching against the snow startled the doe into retreating. Arthur hid a growl and turned to yell at Charles for spooking his prey...But the person that stumbled out of the treeline wasn't Charles. It looked like a young woman, her eyes glazed over and blood trailing down her chin. Her hair was a tangled mess and blended nicely with her equally bloody, messy clothes. She wordlessly opened her mouth and reached out a hand to Arthur.
"Are you alright, miss?" He asked, stopping the struggle against his bow. The woman bore her teeth at him like a wild dog and snarled. Arthur stepped back and dropped the bow and arrow, his hand ghosting over the pistol at his hip. "Ma'am, you seem to be bleeding...Everywhere. Do you need help?"
Another growl. The woman lurched forewords, her arm still reaching out to Arthur. He stepped back in response. A nasty feeling in his gut told him if that woman got to him, he'd be dead.
"I'm gonna ask you to stay back-" he started to say, cutting himself off when the woman ran at him. He stumbled back, tripped over a rock, fell onto the ground, pulled out his pistol and shot the woman through the chest. The gaping wound barely deterred her and she fell directly on top of him, gnashing teeth barely missing his shoulder.
"How are you alive?!" Arthur shouted at her as they struggled on the ground. The woman's answer was just a short and frustrated angry scream, her teeth getting way too close to Arthur's face for his liking.
Days of cold and weariness didn't do wonders for your strength. Rolling around on the cold hard ground wasn't going to help any, either. Arthur's arms were already starting to give out under the weight of this persistent cannibal. The woman seemed to grow excited as she inched closer and closer to him, he was well and ready to give up-
Until an arrow came out of nowhere, lodging itself deep into the woman's skull. She let out a little defeated whine and rolled off of Arthur, who scrambled away quickly and wiped her blood off his face. Charles galloped in on Tamia, made her skid to a halt beside Arthur and jumped off of her almost before she even stopped moving. "Arthur! Are you okay? Did she bite you?"
"No, but she would have if it weren't for you." Arthur gave Charles a thankful smile. Charles drew another arrow from the pack on his back and quickly checked the rest of the area.
"Don't thank me yet," he said. "I think your fight with your friend may have attracted her own buddies."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
Charles fired an arrow at a moving shadow. Another woman in as bad shape as the first fell out from the treeline. "That."
Arthur fumbled for his own bow in the snow. Charles pulled him up again by the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the treeline. "Go!" He shouted. "Unless you want to stay behind and fight them all off!"
"With how many there could be here?" Arthur watcher Charles shoot down another one. "I think I'll take my chances on the back of a horse!"
"Good plan." Charles threw his new arrow back into the pack and mounted Tamia again, leading the way back to Arthur's Tennessee Walker.

"There they are!" Pearson greeted them jovially when they rode back into camp, horses sweating up a storm. "Took you boys long enough."
"Sorry, Pearson." Arthur winced as he slid down off his horse's back. His back was going to be smarting for a WHILE after that bumpy ride.
Pearson watched Charles bring in the only deer they'd managed to bring in. "Only one?"
"We got attacked," Charles said simply.
Pearson bristled. "By O'Driscolls?"
"Worse." Arthur took Tamia's reins and hitched her up beside his own horse. "Much worse. Probably something dead."
Pearson laughed. "You're kiddin' with me!"
"He's not. Arthur, do you want to skin the deer?" Charles turned to the cowboy, tossing him a knife when he nodded. "I'm going to try and find more food."
"See if you can find a cow!" Pearson called as Arthur headed into his little setup. "The woman have been crying for bread and milk again!"
"Now then, Mister Morgan." He turned his attention to Arthur. "Why don't you tell me the real reason you and that boy only brought back one deer?"
Arthur smiled to himself, running his knife over the deer's hide before answering him. "You want the truth?"
"Yes, I do."
"Buckle up, then." Arthur plunged the knife into the table and sat beside it, careful not to push the deer carcass off. "Because it's a Hell of a story."