I just entered art school and the past week has been pretty exiting and exhausting and most importantly, I haven't had much time to write. So I used a few pre-written bits and edited them (a lot). Luckily I have most of the next chapters already finished and ready to be published, so I hopefully won't have to stress myself out to much.
Also, I am aware that some things in this chapter don't make sense. I promise there's a reason for that ;)
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We were far away from the train we had robbed, although I wasn't sure how far away and where exactly we were. The sun had risen above the hilly, forested terrain around me one hour ago. This place didn't look like the heartlands. In fact it didn't look like any place I had been to recently.
My eyes shot around nervously. This could only be near strawberry, a place that I should never set foot in again if I wanted to keep my freedom and my life. God knew how close I was to the town and in how much danger I was. I turned Smith, who was still breathing heavily around and left the path.The forest closed around us like a thick blanket, the high bushes hid us from any bypassing travelers. In the safety of the trees, I opened my map and trailed my finger over the withered paper. A proud grin spread over my face when it found the word „STRAWBERRY", which I deciphered all by myself.
We would have to cross the damn railway bridge again to get back to the camp. As much as I hated to do that, especially without Arthur who seemed to be able to sense if a train was coming our way, there was no other way I could get Smith back across the river. I sighed and hoped that everyone made it back alive and that Cat, who I had left with Abigail and Jack was alright. I already missed her a little.
I decided that I would just keep following the path until I found a hint where exactly I was. But just when I was about to return to the path, I heard a male voice. „Hello? Who's there?"
I cursed under my breath. That much for staying undiscovered. A silent retreat was impossible, Smith was as quiet as a locomotive that had left its tracks to drive through a forest. He was the worst horse you could choose for a silent escape. So I gave up and yelled back: „Sorry, Mister! Didn't mean to disturb ya."
I steered my horse towards the strangers voice. It was indeed a man, standing behind a camera and mumbling to himself. He eyed me for a moment, nervously, before I spoke up. „Excuse me, Mister. I was out huntin', I didn't mean to startle you."
The lie left my lips easily. I really didn't want to scare him, for my own reasons.He smiled nervously and offered an explanation himself. „Wildlife's my thing too, although in another sense. I'm working on a project." He gestured at the weird object propped up next to him. It vaguely resembled the camera that the guy back at the bar had given me to take pictures of the criminals he wanted me to interview - Lewin, wasn't that his name? „Photography.", the man interrupted my thoughts.
I nodded thoughtfully. I was looking for an opportunity to excuse myself and get back to camp before my absence inspired some uncomfortable questions. But the man looked like he wanted to use this chance to rant about his job thoroughly.
„If I have to take another picture of a grumpy house frau or a pompous middle class burgher, I will feed myself to the lions. Stand here.", he continued and waved me over. Hesitantly, I followed his wish and slipped off Smiths back.
„Come on, stand here.", he ordered exitedly and positioned me in front of his camera. „Albert Manson.", he introduced himself while he kneeled down behind the odd-looking device, presumably to take a picture.
„Bonnie Mackintosh.", I lied.
„Pleasure." Albert stepped behind his camera again. „I'm trying to find and capture images of our great predators before our greatest predators kill them all and stick them on some club house wall."
„What a honour to be one of these predators.", I muttered and hoped that he would let me go now.
Manson laughed. „You said you were here to hunt, after all. How do you find all those animals? It's not the easiest, for me at least. But, well, I love a challenge."
„You just...gotta know what you're looking for.", I replied stiffly. „You have to look for dung, fur, old prey, not just pawprints."
„I've been just leaving a big load of meat, and praying that they don't mistake me for their lunch.", he admitted.
Suddenly, he let out a scream. „Oh! Good heavens! My bag!"
I whirled around, one hand at my holster. One gaze cleared the situation. There was a small doglike creature, sniffing the leather bag Manson had just described.
When the coyote realized that it had been caught, it snatched the bag and sprinted off.
„That thing is robbing me! Oh, good heaves!", Albert lamented.
I huffed. „I'll deal with it."
The terrain was difficult and the coyote had an advantage, being much smaller and lighter than me. But my legs were longer and I had better view of the surroundings. I cut its way off and forced it to the right, out into open terrain.
Cold air filled my lungs, burned in my throat. My feet hit the ground in a quick rhythm, faster, wider, closing the space between the animal and me.
It had to make a decision in a split second to avoid getting caught. Only a few more steps and it would have to face me, risking injury or even death for a bag of meat. It decided that this wasn't worth it. The small creature dropped the leather bag and scurried off to the treeline.
„Got your bag." I dropped it in front of his feet and examined him expectantly.
„Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss.", he muttered and picked it up. „The bag also had a lot of my supplies, you've saved me days. I'm...Can't thank you enough. I'm...I'm. Thank you." An embarrassed blush crept up his neck and cheeks.
„That's alright."
„I'm uh... You take care, Miss." He returned to his camera and started to fumble with it as if it was really important to do this right now.
I huffed. „Pretty sure you're at a greater risk, ya know?"
Mason looked up again. „Yes, I realize I am a fool. Forgive me... And thank you very much once again."
A few minutes later, Smith and I were on the way to the railway bridge. „I've rarely seen someone with that little survival instinct out in the wild.", I told my horse jokingly. „Probably because everyone else died."
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The wild, wild West (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)
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