Pearson had yet again sent Arthur and Charles out hunting for some game in the plains. Taima and Pretty Boy with their owners set off for the heartlands. It was pretty hot that day and the horses were overwhelmed by the heat. The pair hadn't had luck for the slightest buffalo or deer. Some small rodents and rabbits ran across the path, but the game was too small for the cartridges they had. It was already sunset, both of them had given up, so they set up a small camp to wait out the night. Charles set the fire as Arthur set the tent they'd be sharing later. Arthur had been feeling some kind of need recently, not knowing how to cure it, he had been ignoring it. It was almost 9:30, so the two decided to call it a night. Arthur stripped himself of weaponry and its equipment, boots, and other non-essential items to sleep in. Charles as well. They had skinned and gutted a rabbit they had accidentally ran over, eating as they acted a famished dog. Arthur felt weird, sick almost. Arthur excused himself from the tent and walked a good 37 paces away, hurting in the stomach. He pulled some bourbon from his satchel and took a swig. He knew he was an alcoholic and needed to stop drinking, but he felt as he needed this drink to soothe the pain. After many nauseating minutes, he walked back to the little encampment and lay in the tent.
'Ya know, Charles, jus'a thought, we never really got t' know each other.' Arthur mentioned.
'You're right. Well, now, I mean, is a good time to, y'know, chat.' Charles said.
'Well, I almost got hanged when I was jus' a boah, you know that?' Arthur asked.
'No, I didn't. Well, I just about died in my reservation. My sisters and my brother were killed. Me, my father, and mother escaped though,' Charles commented, 'do you have any liquor? I'm so dry.'
'Yeah, actually,' Arthur replied, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. Long story short, both of them had drunk 8 bottles of liquor by 10:30. Arthur went in his usual 'no one would have me' fits. But he and Charles mostly laughed.
Arthur laughed the hardest.
'It's pretty late,' Charles soberly said, 'we should sleep.'
'Okay.. let's see if we can find some game. Tomorrow, of courseee.'
YOU ARE READING
Huntin, fishin, lovin everyday. /John X Arthur\
RomanceThat's a prayer that a country boy prays.
