Now reunited, Killian, Jasper and the group must cross dangerous territory to the Freebird's main camp. On their arrival, Killian learns just how far the Freebird's hatred of Jasper expands-and just how much danger that puts him in.
Soon after arri...
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The sun rose up slowly onto the horizon, a menagerie of pinks, oranges, reds and purples spread out across the vast expanse of the sky, bleeding into it like a watercolor painting on an empty canvas. Takeo's roan fur gleamed golden in the passive rays, the stallion stood still and sturdy just as always, staring out with Jasper from a large boulder bordering the riverbed. Soft water trickled in the stream, bubbles produced a paler foam around the rough, rocky barriers. The birds still hadn't begun their singing, the crickets still hadn't ceased theirs.
Stirring murmurs were exchanged as the patrol began to wake and pack their supplies, then take action to make sure no embers were left of the fires they'd set for warmth the night before. It was colder than usual that morning, an unpleasant chill laid dormant against Jasper's skin on his spine, just enough to tickle but not enough to shudder. His fingertips itched with the anticipation of continuing their journey, they'd reach their destination that night they continued the pace they'd kept the previous day. The sooner we get these supplies and I get Casimir's T, the sooner we can get back to The Nest and I can see Killian and Phoenix. After I get everything sorted out with the Freebirds, Benjiro and I can go rescue Dad...then the group will be out of Oregon for good.
Over the few hours Jasper had spent thinking to himself, he'd come to reject Anastasia's ideas of a revolution, of taking Elias' place as the new leader of the Freebirds. That wasn't his responsibility to bear, it wasn't anybody's. I don't need any more of this hero nonsense. I just need my family, I need my group. I need them to be safe and we'll get the Hell out of here before a war breaks out. And if Stephan or Elias follows us, that'll be their funeral. No doubt the other states have their own groups by now, being a hostile stranger in another person's territory is a good way to get them killed. Then while they're distracted we can all slip away.
A mare plodded up beside Takeo, balancing on the rock, her dainty hooves made it easier to keep standing on the uneven surface. Jasper glanced up, surprised to see that it was none other than Chris, who'd come to join his overwatching of the valley, keeping a lookout for biters while they prepared to pack up and move out again. Not for the first time during their hours of traveling together, guilt weighed heavy on Jasper's shoulders. Now, up close with the daylight sun shining directly on Chris, he could see the full extent of the disfiguring scars that were carved deep into his flesh.
The bullet wound left an already large scar, about an inch wide at the center of the space, the extending trails were much longer. There much have been shrapnel in that bullet too, or maybe it shattered on impact? It was just a graze, but it must have scraped awfully close. He's lucky to be alive...though, he might not see it that way. The missing eye was grotesque to look at, it was difficult not to stare. More indentions in his skin were carved around the socket, the intentional nature behind them was obvious. One that had healed but still made a groove in his skin trailed from just under his nose, over his lips and down to his chin. The last was a more shallow, again less noticeable one across the bridge of his nose.
