To be Yours

Out at Camp, Finally.

John, Ranza, Bill, and Kieran headed back to the camp. John hadn't tried to talk much, and for that Ranza was thankful.

Bill was a different story. Complaining on how never in a million years he thought a O'Driscoll would be on the back of his precious horse, and how Brown Jack would never have to carry such a person again.

They passed through a small part of Valentine. This made her remember how much she hated civilization, and that was from just the small bit of the town she saw.

Ranza's legs hurt like Satan had personal handedly set fire to them, and told his servants to eat the flesh of the bone.

Between her standing up, running around, having to take people down, get on and off the backs of horses, and let alone sit on the back of the horse; she was exhausted already.

The quartet continued to lazily go back to camp, at a leisurely trot.

They did eventually get back to camp, and went under the tree that welcomed them back to the camp.

"Who be there?" The now familiar Irish accent asked; Sean. "Marston, idiot." John replied mumbling the last part.

"Ah! Lads! Was 'thinking them O'Driscoll's had gotten you, but my eyes seem to see they is on your horses?" Sean pointed out slightly confused.

Bill scoffed quietly. "Unfortunately." He groaned complaining.

"We oughta go talk to Dutch." John said nudging old boy on, Bill following after him.

Ranza slid off the back of Old Boy and went over to Canción, who nickered at her happily and walked over to his owner.

She rubbed the forehead of the spanish horse, and pulled an oatcake out of her saddlebag and fed it to him. "Te he extrañado..." she mumbled softly and the gelding licked her hand afterwords.

She hugged the neck of the horse and buried her neck in his mane. It'd felt like years since she'd been able to pet the horse, and he gently wrapped his head around her nuzzling her pocket for more treats, or attention.

"Missus Basturo." She heard the deep voice of Dutch rumble behind her and she tensed up and sighed, her moment with her horse already ruined.

Ranza looked at the man awkwardly as he came over and patted her horses shoulder.

"I heard you shot fleeing O'Driscoll boys at the camp?" He asked not looking at her fully, and he struck a match on his boot and lit a cigarette, bringing it to her lips.

She paused for a minute and nodded agreeing silently. "Why?" He continued to prod, she shrugged.

"I suppose I don't like them anymore then you." She replied dully, and he eyes her with a quizzical hum. "I'm sure." He said sarcastically.

"Why else would I? You are acting if more of the O'Driscoll's being dead is a bad thing." She huffed and eyed him.

"Fair enough. I will leave you to your own." He said before walking away.

•+•

Nearly two hours later and Ranza had stayed over by Canción, brushing him and making up for missed time.