𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒. DEAN WINCHESTER

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒.

❛As the riders loped on by him
He heard one call his name
'If you wanna save your soul
From hell a-riding on our range

Then, cowboy, change your ways today
Or with us you will ride
Trying to catch the devil's herd
Across these endless skies

Ghost riders in the sky . . . ❜
— johnny cash

Clementine Colt doesn't believe in ghosts. Ghosts were fragments of the imagination. Ghosts were the creaking floorboards in old houses, or the dark sounds of nature that haunted the night, or the gravity that made the houses sink in the earth and make the rocks fall down the hills. The acknowledgment of ghosts was a way for the fearful to give a face to the unknown. Clementine does not fear the unknown, nor does she fear death.

Growing up on the Great Plains of Oklahoma, the state that's famous for its fair share of legendary westerners, and is haunted by its wild nature ruled by thunderstorms and tornadoes, meant learning at a young age that your fear for death will become your death. Its folks fight against nature, accompanied by their horses and livestock. Thunder is their music, lightning is their movie, the wind is their enemy, the rain is their shower, and the sun is their blanket. Living in the Great Plains meant surviving the violent weather swings: tornadoes, blizzards, hail, drought, days that the old thermometer cracks a hundred and days that it freezes straight into your bones.

Nobody is a stranger, and if you are, you better watch your steps. Civilization can be miles away when you guide the cows to the grasslands, but where there are folks, their villages are bound together because of the treacherous faith of the survival of the Plains.

The Plains didn't have much love for its folks in Oklahoma.

Clementine Colt has known this her entire life. Her father died by a thick tree branch, torn loose by a blazing storm, that had ripped point first into his chest, during the tornado season, when she'd been eight years old. Since then, she'd tried to keep their farm, that bordered the tiny village Saint Merope, alive with her mother and her brother, defying the forces of nature that worked against them. Her mother, with Cherokee roots in her blood, always told her children not try to rule over nature, but instead try to keep their proper place within it.

Nearing the edge of winter and entering the tornado season of 2002, the family Colt finds themselves at the dilemma of following the advice of their uncle, who claims there to be a strange swift in the spiritual world that ruled over the fields and lands, or to ride with their cattle to the family's grassland that laid far into the Great Plains.

But Clementine Colt doesn't believe in ghosts, and despite her Cherokee roots, neither in the spirt world. She convinces her brother to go against her mother's and uncle's warnings. Accompanied with her brother Paris Colt, she leaves in the early morning, hours before sunrise, herding the cattle towards their spring residence.