The Untamed, Unnatural Wild West

Dangers of the Woods

(To those who read before the changes, I was originally going to make this set in the world of RDR2, but changed my mind before publishing. I decided against the change, and wanted to switch back before I got too far into my series.)

The skies over vast forest that covered the Midwest was a beautiful blue with the sun high above, leading the way for a lone rider. A man on horseback trotted through the trees and brush, slightly slumped in his saddle as he grew sore from riding all day. Finally, he pulled back on the reins and came to a stop, soothing his horse as he got down. "Easy, boy. We're just resting." The man pulled his hat off to wipe the sweat from his head, revealing more of his face. His matted ginger hair matched well with his beard, rubbing his tired eyes as he put his hat back on, before looking around his surroundings. The man went by the name James Wilkins, known mostly as a gunman and determined individual. Some, though very few, called him by the nickname "Wilddog." The source of the nickname came from both his loyal nature to a job or others, but also the fact he has a short and fiery temper. Now in between jobs, James has taken a route through the woodlands to get to the next town of Valentine. But a small howl makes James go still, watching the brush for the source before calming his horse once again. "It's alright," James whispered as he pulled the rifle strapped to his horse, "I'll go check it out, Grady." James watched where his boots stepped as he walked slowly, peering behind each tree with both eyes and rifle. It was only twenty feet from Grady that James then heard the rattling of a chain, followed by what he could describe as a dog whine. He then spotted the culprit, a large black wolf biting at its leg, a steel trap caught on its back left leg. James hadn't been there a second before the wolf noticed him, it's strange pinkish-red eyes glaring at him, as it growled. Instinctively, James pulled up his rifle, recalling the many times he'd nearly been mauled by timber wolves. But it didn't feel right, he thought to himself. This doesn't need to happen. He then noticed that despite its large size, he was looking at a female wolf, and that's all it took for him to lower his weapon. She could have pups, he thought as slung the rifle on his shoulder. I can't leave her like this, let alone, kill her. A thick branch to his right caught James' eye, moving slowly to grab it, before creeping closer to the wolf. She growled as he approached, causing him to freeze, speaking in a soft tone. "I'm not gonna hurt ya," he said as he moved the stick close enough to the trap. "Give me a sec, and you won't see me again." With a thrust, the branch was wedged into the jaws of the trap, and a quick pry allowed the wolf to pull free. She limp slightly, stopping to look back at James as he stood up, before bolting into the safety of the woods. James continued to look where he watched the wolf run off before he gave a sharp whistle, waiting till Grady came trotting up. James hopped up before ushering Grady forwards, patting him as he said, "Let's get a little farther before we set up camp."

The last coals and embers sizzles out as James kicked dirt onto the dying fire, the full moon his only source of light as he laid down on his bed roll for the night. After a quick look to see that Grady was still hitched to the tree James tied him to, he set his hat over his face before he welcomed the comforts of sleep. As he laid there, James founds his thoughts drift and mingle in his drowsy mind. James wondered how his parents were doing, being independent and going from town to town kept him from visiting them as much as he wanted to. His mother, Angela, ran a bakery in his home town of Strawberry; it had been her passion to bake goods for others. She taught him his manners, which was a luxury that many couldn't afford, as the West didn't rely on manners and common courtesy like the East did. His father though, Dean, was a bit tougher skin than his mother. His father was an excellent hunter, using the meat he got to feed his family while the furs were sold for profit. James was lucky to gain some experience and wisdom from his old man, spent days either hunting or running the trap line. That wolf must of stumbled into an old line, James told himself as he felt himself drifting off, didn't seem tended to in- James felt his mind pulled back into focus as a rustling caught his ear. James pulled his hat up as he pushed himself up one one arm, his eyes darting from tree to tree. He went to disregard it as passing wildlife when a snap of a twig caught his ear, Grady began to grow skittish and whiney. James stood frozen as he tried to make out where the stalker was, he drew his revolver only for a second before he heard the click of a hammer. "Drop it," a voice called from his right, James let his gun drop from his hand before a man with shaggy, dark hair emerged from the trees, gun pointed at James' head. "Got him, Hector," his captor that matched the voice yelled out, where James noticed movement from in front of him. Another man, older gent with graying hair, came strolling out from the trees, reaching out to calm Grady before looking to James. "James Wilkins. You're a hard man to find," the stranger called Hector stated, "but no man can't be tracked." "Some don't like to be found, hunted like an animal," James shot back, to which Hector gave a wry chuckle. "Shouldn't have killed that man in Blackwater," the first man growled as he tapped the gun to James' head. "Settle down, Mick. The warden wants him alive to finish the labor he owes." "Tell your agitated friend here," James asked as he glared at Mick down his barrel, "that I'm not responsible for that." "Well, I would," Hector mused as he walked away from Grady and smiled confidently at James, "but for a man that doesn't like to be hunted, you seem to have a lot to hide about you." "Nonsense," James' voice said with a touch a playfulness, "I'm an open book." "Well, good," Hector stated, "but that makes no difference to me or Mick here. We're told to bring you in, and that's what will do." James examined his options before his eyes landed on the repeater strapped to Grady, "You're not taking me in for killing a man I didn't even meet." "I don't think you have much of a choice, Wilkins," Hector said as his gaze sharpened, he seemed done playing games. James took in a breath before telling the bounty hunter, "Not from your choices, but I like to pick from my own." Hector didn't even have time to process James' words before he grabbed Mick's arm and smashed his gun into his face, pushing him to the ground before James dove behind a tree as Hector began firing at him. James struggled to stand without feeling pain in his leg, his right leg had been hit, but the wound seemed to be clean through. "Argh, I'll kill him!" Mick's voice could be heard yelling as James eyed his target. "Don't make this anymore difficult than it already is, Wilkins. We're only bringing you in on orders," Hector's voice spoke up, James taking time to gather himself before making his move. James jumped out and made his move towards Grady, Hector and Mick didn't even register what happen till James began firing back, causing them to high tail it for cover. "How 'bout this for an order?" James shouted at where the men had vanished. "Leave me the hell alone!" Silence filled the now still gunfight, not even the birds sang as James waited by Grady for one of them to rear their head at him. James crept forward, making his way closer to their hiding spot as he quieted his breathing. Mick then suddenly jumped out from behind a tree, but had to retreat as James shot inches from his face, cursing as he went back to cover. In Hector's turn, he surprised James by shooting at his hand, causing the gunman to drop the repeater as he favored his hand, glaring at the bounty hunter before a hit to his right shoulder sent him crumbling to the ground. "Mick, you fool! We need him alive! Hold your fire." "I want him to pay," Mick shouted at his partner as James groaned at his newly added pain, "His shoulder for my face." "You need to learn to not take everything to personal, or your going to end up-" The talking stopped, weapons cocked and James began to worry what had them speechless. "Mick, quiet down. There's a bear not far from you," Hector hissed in a low voice, but Mick didn't seem to take the hint. "You sure? I didn't hear any- What the hell is-?! Argh!" Mick's voice could be heard by the fading gunman, before growls and screams erupted from the trees. "Mick! No. No, stay back. I said stay-!" Hector began pleading, but the screams and a strange crack told James that he didn't last long either. Through his lose of blood, James began to feel the panic that the 'bear' could be after him next. Spying his revolver a foot away, James pulled himself towards his weapon, groping for it till his fingers grasped the stock. Struggling in breathing and lifting his gun arm, James keep his still bluring vision on the trees. He then heard footsteps approaching him, but they didn't sound like a bear's, or no man's. Finally, he saw a shadow emerge from the trees, Grady's agitated whining heard as it came closer before stopping, towering over him as it looked down at him with...those piercing pinkish-red eyes. James couldn't process what he was seeing, as a bear couldn't walk on its back legs with such ease, but he couldn't focus anymore, he felt his arm grow tired as the gun slipped from his hand, his body thuding to the ground in exhaustion. The last thing his mind caught was the creature coming closer to his motionless body, slightly limping on its left, scarred leg, and then James went into the black void.

"Ma. It's cold out. Close the window, will ya?" James stirred in his sleep till his eyes shot open, finding he wasn't at home, but in a cave. He bolted to sit up, but his shoulder shot pain through his chest, gritting his teeth as he tried not to yell. He looked down at himself, surprised that not only was his shirt pulled off, but his shoulder and leg had been bandaged, rather poorly though. Strange, he thought, who could have done this? The events of last night then came rushing back to him: the bounty hunters, the shoot out, and...the creature. I should be dead. It killed those men, but why am I still here? Something else then clicked to him, the creature had strange pinkish-red eyes, just like the wolf he'd freed, but that was impossible. No. It couldn't. That thing and the wolf have nothing in- But the last event finally appeared in his mind: the creature had a scar on its left hind leg, just exactly where the wolf had her leg caught in that trap. She saved me, he told himself as his mind finally felt as clear as a sunny day, she saved me to repay her debt. James struggled to stand, but found his leg didn't hurt as bad as it did last night. After getting dressed and gathering his things that were scattered about the place, he slowly made his way out of the cave. The sun felt nice and warm on his skin, he took time to enjoy the fresh, morning air before he heard a disturbance to his right. Tied to a tree was Grady, who seemed to be unharmed and happy to see James as he approached his stead. "Seems like our mutual friend brought us both here, huh boy?" Grady only gave a snort, James laughed as he tenderly pulled himself onto his horse, before he gave a "yah" and Grady moved into a gentle trot. Though he felt ok now, James felt it wouldn't hurt to go see a doctor about these wounds. James stopped and took a look back, he still didn't fully understand what happened last night, but was anyway grateful. I promise, I'll come back, he told himself as he gave Grady the okay to began to galloping off. I'll come back to give my thanks.