A well dressed former gang member charismaticly trying to reclaim what's left of his past as he searches for his love, whom he doesn't know whether is dead or alive.
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He makes a slow trot through the tough and unending drought scorn landscape. He stops for a day, deciding he shouldn't make haste towards a possible doom. He remains vigilant, knowing he could be bushwhacked at any time, now with his approach known and prepared for.
Marcus takes not of the sound of galloping, in the dozens, he makes his piece, knowing his journey might end. He gets out of his tend, his flashy grin a sore memory for this moment. Ready to face uncertainty in the oncoming, he stand front on to the group heading towards him. Men of grit, dirty, all wearing black duster coats, all with eagle feathers in their hats.
One man, a feather in his hat, a red band on his hat. Stops his horse a few meters short of him.
"Hey there friend." He says in an uncomfortably coy voice.
"Hello" Marcus retorts in spite. Take it you heard I was comin to town?"
"Hm? Not at all." The man chuckles. "We been tailin ya for a while now, you came by some rustlers a few weeks back no?"
"Yeah I did..." Marcus looks confused.
"Yeah we met em, they were... lots a fun friend" The man says coldly.
Marcus feels the blood drain from his face. "You did that, massacred those men"
"Its art, but nevermind that, you might be of some help to us"
"Who the hell even are you?" Marcus scoffs in disgust.
The man dismounts his horse, a lean man with broad shoulders. "Names Mack, Mack Daniels"
"Leader of the Black Feathers, brutal bunch aren't ya." Marcus loosening his stance, trying to give no levy to his unease.
"We do our part" Mack says, tilting his head pivoting his eyes to Marcus in an unsettling stare.
"What did you need my help with anyway? I assume you ain't gonna kill me, atleast yet." Marcus says tilting his head back gauging the people infront of him.
"Well we know you got some bones to pick with that head honcho John Matthews in the town up a ways, ex gang member no? Well regardless, we don't care about your history, we know you tryna kill em. We want his bounty more than yours, its twice than yours." Mack says grinning. Causing Marcus to twitch his eye in anger.
"Somethin. Like. That." Marcus strains.
"Well help us, we get his body, you get whatever stupid shit you got going on."
"What if I don't"
"We'll gut you, maybe tie your intestines into a bow, cut of your head and mail it to that girl o yours."
"Marcus looks caught off guard, the instinct to draw on him near overwhelming, but his better instincts take over as he takes a deep breath, now noticing the double barrel levelled to him from one of the gang members"
