Outlaw || Boothill

I

 

In the vast expanse of the outside world, where the sun beat down relentlessly on the arid landscape and the wind whispered secrets through the tumbleweeds, a lone outlaw rode across the dusty trail. His name? Unknown to many, a shadowy figure feared by many and respected by few. With each mile he traversed, the weight of his past sins hung heavy on his shoulders, driving him ever forward in search of redemption, or perhaps simply oblivion.

He was a man of few words and many secrets, his rugged exterior belying the turmoil that raged within. Behind the steely gaze and weathered visage lay a past shrouded in darkness, a tale of betrayal and loss that had led him down a path from which there seemed no escape.

As he rode into the bustling frontier town, the clamor of the marketplace assaulted his senses, a chaotic symphony of voices and laughter that echoed off the weather-beaten facades of the surrounding buildings. He wondered around town, seeking refuge from the relentless pursuit of the law that dogged his every move.

But beneath the guise of anonymity, he carried the weight of his past sins like a millstone around his neck, a constant reminder of the blood that stained his hands and the lives he had left in his wake. Each day was a battle for survival, a relentless struggle against the forces that sought to drag him down into the depths of despair. All though the people he brought harm to weren't exactly innocent themselves, guilt was always a present factor.

Amidst the haze of smoke and the clink of glasses, he realised he needed some new font of adventure.

As he strode through the bustling frontier town, he caught a glimpse of the royal gardens, hidden behind ornate iron gates. The sight stirred memories of a life he once knew, a life of privilege and luxury now lost to him forever. With a heavy heart, he urged his himself forward, but his attention was drawn to the imposing gates of royal gardens, where the promise of untold riches lay hidden behind lush foliage.

With a calculated determination, he made a silent vow to himself: tonight, he would make his move. But for now, he rode past the gardens, masking his intentions beneath a facade of indifference, biding his time until darkness fell and the cloak of night offered him the perfect cover for his daring heist.
Drawling to himself, he scoffed to himself. "Well now, ain't that a sight for sore eyes. Looks like there's some fancy pickings behind them there iron bars." With a wry smirk and a warrant for action smeared on his expression.

...

Under the cover of darkness, he returned to the royal gardens, his steps muffled by the soft earth beneath his boots. With the skill of a seasoned thief, he picked the lock on the iron gates, their hinges creaking softly in protest as they swung open to reveal the hidden treasures within.

With a sly grin, he slipped inside, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he surveyed the ornate statues and shimmering fountains that dotted the moonlit landscape. Moving with the stealth of a shadow, he made his way to the heart of the garden, where the prized jewel of the kingdom lay nestled amidst a bed of fragrant roses. What a weird place to put something so valuable...

...uncanny, but dandy.

With practiced hands, he plucked the jewel from its velvet-lined pedestal, his heart pounding with exhilaration as he pocketed the priceless treasure. But before he could make his escape, a voice pierced the silence of the night, freezing him in his tracks.

"Uh- is someone there-?"

Caught in the act, he tensed, his mind racing as he searched for a way out of the predicament. With a quicksilver reflex, he darted behind a nearby hedge, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he waited for the inevitable confrontation.