DESC.: Arthur Morgan helps a woman trapped under her horse, and claims a better reward than he expected.
CHARACTERS: Arthur Morgan, Alice Stanton (OC).
Valentine wasn’t much to look at, in Arthur’s opinion. He had never been fond of livestock towns and the stench of animal shit that lingered in the air. The people were awful and weren’t fond of outsiders, though in their defence, Arthur had beat a man to a bloody pulp on his very first trip to the town. It had been a relief when Trelawny had given them the lead on Sean MacGuire’s whereabouts; while Arthur hadn’t been keen on going anywhere near Blackwater ever again, it was good to save Sean from inevitable hanging. The bloodbath they had created in the bounty hunter’s camp was good for the stress too, Arthur thought.
“Are you coming with us, Arthur?” Javier’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Arthur saw the man climbing onto his horse as Sean talked Charles’ ear off. Wanting to spare himself from the Irishman’s endless chatter, Arthur shook his head.
“I’m going to see what’s worth taking from here,” Arthur announced, watching Sean climb onto the back of Boaz and ramble on about the amount of stories that he had to tell. Javier had exasperation painted all over this face as he followed Charles down the trail, trying not to give Sean too much attention. Arthur whistled for Boadicea, walking over to a body laying nearby to loot the bounty hunter as the American Standardbred made its way toward him, the Buckskin coat horse whining as it halted nearby. Arthur did a quick sweep of the camp; there wasn’t much. The man decided to leave before the law or more bounty hunters showed up, he spurred his horse toward the trail to make a getaway.
Perhaps he should head toward Strawberry, he wouldn’t arrive back in camp until nightfall and he didn’t quite feel like partying with Sean. He knew there would be a party; there was always a party when something like this happened. The hotel in Strawberry wasn’t awful, it would do for a night.
“You’re alright, girl,” Arthur mumbled, brushing his horse with his hand briefly before reaching into his satchel; the man had picked up some oatcakes from the general store in Valentine earlier in the day. After all the riding they had done today alone, Boadicea deserved a treat. She ate right from his hand and he praised her more; there wasn’t much that he cared about more than his horse. Arthur almost didn’t hear the cries and calls for help nearby, and he halted Boadicea. The shouting was louder and belonged to a woman, and Arthur left the main trail to move toward the noise. On a less clear dirt track that he likely would have missed if not for the cries, Arthur came across a dead horse. It was a large shire horse, and underneath it laid a woman. She was alive, and looked relieved to see him.
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