mountmore fic -- ^^

Part One -- The Harsh Lands of the American Southwest ☄. *. ⋆

The heat blanketed the ground, baking the sandy land of the American Southwest. Blackmore, a stubborn subordinate with the ability to manipulate rain, found himself isolated in this merciless weather. He had been wandering for days, driven by a mysterious gut-feeling that pulled him further into the unforgiving desert. He was assigned a strict path to follow, but this feeling that he couldn't shake was telling him to stray from it. He was conflicted in his thoughts and dehydrated at the same time, and it wasn't at all pleasurable.

Mountain Tim, on the other hand, was thriving. a thirsty cowboy who just happened to be a stand user of his own, was on his own journey through the same relentless lands. He used his knowledge of the path's geography to help himself navigate the place, laughing every now and then about how easy it was to avoid this heat and focus on his goal- which was to find a hidden treasure. However, he couldn't help but think about how alluring the idea of going farther than he had ever gone before was.. The idea of straying from his chosen route.. He tried to distract himself from these thoughts, but his mind kept repeating the same things.

As the two men wandered along their separate paths, they couldn't shake the feeling that haunted both of them. They both somehow wondered when the thoughts would get too strong for them to handle, and when they'd eventually give into the urge to stray from their paths. Little did they know, they wouldn't be waiting too long. As Mountain Tim guided his horse off the path, and Blackmore continued his stroll, they wandered into the unknown. 

On the scorching afternoon of one of the following days, as Blackmore was struggling to find water, his weary eyes fell upon a lone traveler somewhere in the distance. It was Mountain Tim, slowly bringing his horse to a halt upon locking eyes with Blackmore- even from so far away. Adjusting his iconic hat, he urged his horse to slowly move forward, not wanting the poor thing to waste any of it's remaining energy. The sight of the water flasks on the pockets of the horse's saddle gave Blackmore a feeling of hope.

He was about to reach out to the cowboy, but ended up not needing to- as Mountain Tim called out to him first...