Detailed Roleplayers discussion
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Anna ~ Don't let anyone dull your sparkle ~ & Maven's Queen
message 701:
by
Lynn
(new)
Oct 13, 2022 03:23PM
((I'm so glad you caught that! I may or may not have audibly squealed after writing that line, lol))
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((Awww so CUTE!!! I love it!))
Jarin was slightly startled when Dasha grabbed his hand, but he didn't pull away. In fact, it felt like it was supposed to belong there. He had wanted to hold her hand for a long time now, and it was surprising that she had done so first. But now was not the time to dwell on that. Right now, he had to find Mattie and would take however long they needed to bring him back to them.
"I agree," Jarin nodded, following the dog once the animal realized they knew what he wanted. Rudy limped along, nose to the ground before lifting his head and checking to make sure they hadn't fallen behind.
"If his parentage was a sore spot, why would he have run just because of that?" Jarin began after awhile of walking. "If it was something of his past, he probably would have still been upset about it, but to run away? He's got to be terrified of it, whatever it is," he commented, feeling a chill run down his spine. He stumbled to a stop when Rudy barked, pawing at the dirt in front of them. To the trained eye, there looked like a struggle had taken place in the dust at their feet not long ago. There were a few larger spots of darkening blood staining the ground in various places, and a scrabble of dog prints, indicating that Rudy had gotten involved one way or another. The dog himself seemed anxious, hackles rising as he peered around them. Coming from nearby, and heading off into the distance, was a long track of hoofprints, some obscured slightly when the horse had trodden upon a section of dry grass or rocks.
"I agree," Jarin nodded, following the dog once the animal realized they knew what he wanted. Rudy limped along, nose to the ground before lifting his head and checking to make sure they hadn't fallen behind.
"If his parentage was a sore spot, why would he have run just because of that?" Jarin began after awhile of walking. "If it was something of his past, he probably would have still been upset about it, but to run away? He's got to be terrified of it, whatever it is," he commented, feeling a chill run down his spine. He stumbled to a stop when Rudy barked, pawing at the dirt in front of them. To the trained eye, there looked like a struggle had taken place in the dust at their feet not long ago. There were a few larger spots of darkening blood staining the ground in various places, and a scrabble of dog prints, indicating that Rudy had gotten involved one way or another. The dog himself seemed anxious, hackles rising as he peered around them. Coming from nearby, and heading off into the distance, was a long track of hoofprints, some obscured slightly when the horse had trodden upon a section of dry grass or rocks.
Although Dasha was still hoping for some situation not involving Shiloh, she silently began to brainstorm what the best course of action would be if the path did indeed lead them to him. Hope was not a plan and it was best to at least try and be prepared for a worst case scenario. She wondered if she should fill in Jarin on what she had figured out- perhaps not all of it, that would be too much to take in right now, but she could at least tell him about Shiloh being Mattie's father. If the trail did lead to him, it would be best for Jarin to know sooner rather than later- while they were still a ways from town and there was time for the fact to settle. It was always safer to approach uncertain situations with a level head rather than be guided by emotion. Of course if she had her way, Jarin would not be in Shiloh's presence at all tonight even if the trail led to him. She had already decided that should that end up becoming the case she would confront Shiloh alone. It had been her fault that Mattie had run, and she didn't want Jarin getting involved and quite possibly hurt in such a situation. She knew he would most likely argue her choice, but she was thoroughly settled on it. Although she didn't want to, she decided she would knock him out if need be- if reasoning and bargaining failed. She justified that it would be for his own good in the long run, even if he did end up mad at her.
She had been about to tell him about Shiloh when Rudy stopped- forcing her attention forward to the tale the ground had to tell. The dark patches of blood drew her eye first, making her draw in a sharp breath and hope it was just Rudy's and it looked worse than what it was, or that some of it was the abductor's. She let go of Jarin's hand to take another step forward and better inspect the swirl of a telltale struggle etched into the dirt. "He clearly didn't go willingly, but I guess we already knew that." She started to circle around the area of struggle until she caught sight of the hoof prints leading to and away from the area. "Ah, there." There were no other trails to follow branching from the scene of the struggle and the hoofprints leading away were slightly more defined than those that approached- indicating that there had been a bit more weight added on before departure. Whoever the rider was, they had taken Mattie.
"Dasha," Jarin said suddenly, turning to his friend with a serious expression on his face. "We both know something serious is going on, but only you seem to have an idea of what that might be. Someone is bothering him, I have an inkling of that, but you know more than you're letting on. Please. I need to know. I can't help him if I don't know what to do." He was afraid for little Mattie, clearly distressed that the young child had been stolen away and had gone who knew where after being afraid of being found. While the timer was ticking, Jarin hated to think about how fast it might be going.
"Talk to me while we walk," he said, turning over new ideas in his head that he didn't really want to ponder. But if Dasha wouldn't let him in on the big secret she had, then he'd have to risk himself and do this alone.
"Talk to me while we walk," he said, turning over new ideas in his head that he didn't really want to ponder. But if Dasha wouldn't let him in on the big secret she had, then he'd have to risk himself and do this alone.
Dasha studied him a moment before nodding and starting off in the direction the hoofprints dissapeared into. "I have a suspicion of where this trail might lead us." She admitted after a moment, watching the ground for more tracks- partly to make sure they stayed on course, partly because she felt guilty for not letting Jarin in on her suspicions earlier and didn't want to look at him. "I have reason to believe Shiloh-" She realized using his name made it sound like she was far more familiar with him than she should be and adjusted her statement "-to believe the saloon owner is Mattie's father . . . I've suspected it for a bit, but I needed to be certain of it before I told you." She sighed, "I wanted to believe that it wouldn't matter, that someone else would be at the end of this, but every other scenario I can come up with is simply illogical. No one else would have any reason to seek out Mattie." ((So sorry for the super long delay! Had to take an unplanned hiatus. I'll get my reply to the other one up soon.))
((It's alright!))
"If that's the case shouldn't we just abandon this trail and head directly back to the saloon?" Jarin asked, alarm once more crossing his face. He had a good reason why he'd want to punch that man in the noggin for how he bothered Dasha, and now that he dared hurt or terrify his own son angered Jarin further. When Jarin had been back in his castle as a young prince, he remembered his father being strict with him. That had never been a new thing, but being violent was different. "He could be there already. We've got to go, Dasha!"
"If that's the case shouldn't we just abandon this trail and head directly back to the saloon?" Jarin asked, alarm once more crossing his face. He had a good reason why he'd want to punch that man in the noggin for how he bothered Dasha, and now that he dared hurt or terrify his own son angered Jarin further. When Jarin had been back in his castle as a young prince, he remembered his father being strict with him. That had never been a new thing, but being violent was different. "He could be there already. We've got to go, Dasha!"
Dasha shook her head. "We have to stay on trail." She replied automatically. Though she did wish they could just do like Jarin wanted, she knew it wouldn't be a wise move. "I know you want to find and help him as quickly as possible. I do too, but we need to be sure. We can't afford to be wrong. If Mattie is not there we will loose more time backtracking to find the trail again, or maybe even loose it entirely." It wouldn't take much to destroy the trail that they were currently following- a few hefty gusts of wind could scatter and smooth out the top layer of powdery dirt, effectively erasing it. "The Saloon might not be Shiloh’s only hangout . . . We'll move as fast as we can." She did pick up the pace a little more, moving faster than she had been trained to when following such faint trails. She was eager to find the boy though and knew every second counted. After a minute or so of silence she decided to bring up another detail of this search that she knew was bound to be met with protest. ". . . If we do indeed end up at the saloon, I don't want you going in." The statement was a way for her to test the waters- to guage if he could be persuaded into entertaining logic, or if he would let emotion rule and she would need to take more drastic measures to keep him out of harm's way.
Jarin opened his mouth to argue with her, but then he shut it. He knew she was right. If they raced away following wrong suggestions, Mattie could only end up in worse trouble while they hurried to retrace where they'd been, if they would even find it again. "You're right. We'll stay on track," he said, though it was clear he did not like that idea. He wanted to find Shiloh and break his face, perhaps punch him a thousand years into the future. It couldn't be that hard if Jarin had managed to time travel.
Jarin walked along beside her, head down to study where they were going. Occasionally he glanced up to check around for danger, but seeing none, his mind went back to the task. "If Mattie's in the saloon I'm going to get Mattie," he said, voice strained. He did not look at her but all his muscles tensed. Mattie was their friend and Jarin was tired of sitting to the side while Dasha did everything on her own. Maybe she was more experienced than he was in most of these matters, but he could do something.
Jarin walked along beside her, head down to study where they were going. Occasionally he glanced up to check around for danger, but seeing none, his mind went back to the task. "If Mattie's in the saloon I'm going to get Mattie," he said, voice strained. He did not look at her but all his muscles tensed. Mattie was their friend and Jarin was tired of sitting to the side while Dasha did everything on her own. Maybe she was more experienced than he was in most of these matters, but he could do something.
Dasha spared a glance over to Jarin upon hearing his strained response. She noted the new tension his stride held, it was far from the posture of ease he usually sported or even the slightly stiff movements she had known him to adopt in times of stress. His posture hadn't appeared this rigid for a while. . . not since they had first arrived here, back when they were still both strangers set on arguing and lunging for one another's throats. She didn't like feeling that they had taken a step back towards that again. She looked back to the ground, tracking the hoof prints ahead and taking a breath- steeling herself further for the argument she was about to ignite. Her head was already aching from just the thought of the possibly loud discussion to come, but it was necessary. There was no way to avoid it unless she settled on simply letting him think he won and knocking him out when they got there. That option didn't feel right though. "No." She stated, forcing her voice and facial expression to remain even and calm. "You won't. You'll wait outside. It's the best option." She had now tensed a bit herself, her own stride slightly shortened as result. She knew she should explain further. She needed to give him solid reasoning to back up that it was the best option in order to avoid the worst of an argument, but she found it was hard to find the words to articulate one or two compelling key points when she had multiple running through her mind- all fighting to be the most important.
"What do you expect me to do waiting outside?" Jarin countered, not trying to argue but feeling like there was no other way to discuss this with her if he didn't. "What good will that do to help Mattie? Surely there's something I can do besides wait for you." He hadn't agreed to wait outside yet, and while he didn't want to hinder saving Mattie, he wanted to be involved in whatever way he possibly could be. Mattie was his friend, and since the boy had slipped away the other night, it now felt like it was in Jarin's hands to make sure the child was safe. Jarin wasn't afraid of being hurt if it meant he could help Mattie. Or even Dasha, he supposed.
"You can watch the exits and make sure that he isn't moved again." Dasha answered almost automatically "I don't know how many men Shiloh has loyal to him, but its probably enough to keep me busy. Word will spread fast about why I am there. If they are smart they'll have someone break off and try to move Mattie if he is there once it becomes apparent that I will be a problem." Though she wouldn't admit it out loud it did worry her a little to not know exactly what she would be walking in to should this path take them to the saloon . . . but it worried her far more to imagine Jarin thrown into the middle of it with her. She knew a fair fight was a long shot in such a setting. They wouldn't think twice about shooting him dead before he could so much as throw a punch, even if he was unarmed. His life would be of little significance to any of them and there was no law within the walls of a saloon. Whiskey had a way of making even an honest man bend his morals and turn a blind eye to injustice. At least she wouldn't have to worry as much about being gunned down in such a matter herself. Shiloh wanted something from her, he had made that apparent enough with the conversations in the street and the return of her ring. That meant he would want her alive. At least that was one detail in her favor.
Jarin still didn't want to do that but again he knew that Dasha had more experience fighting and all of that than a prince who'd been trapped all his life in a castle. What he was thinking now did not mean he would have the same thoughts once they got to the saloon, or wherever they were headed.
The path continued. The occasional hoofprint led to another, and Jarin wondered several times if they were following the right horse or perhaps an old trail.
Not long after they approached the town from the back side, and within a few minutes, the hoof prints they had been following blended together with the many other animals and men who'd passed by this area recently. However, the closest building to Dasha and Jarin was the saloon, and the raucous laughter inside alerted them to the continual state of drunkeness within.
The path continued. The occasional hoofprint led to another, and Jarin wondered several times if they were following the right horse or perhaps an old trail.
Not long after they approached the town from the back side, and within a few minutes, the hoof prints they had been following blended together with the many other animals and men who'd passed by this area recently. However, the closest building to Dasha and Jarin was the saloon, and the raucous laughter inside alerted them to the continual state of drunkeness within.
Dasha felt her nerves increasing the closer they moved towards town. With each yard traveled it became less and less likely that the path would shift and guide them to a less unsavory part of the town. The brittle remainder of that hope she held was crushed completely with the end of the trail. The rest of the tracks had been marred, lost in the jumble of boot prints, hoof prints, and wagon tracks that covered this commonly traveled ground. She did not have a physical trail to lead her the rest of the way to the rider's final destination, but she didn't need it. She could hear the drunken laughter and the too peppy trill of a piano from here. The saloon was indeed the most likely destination from this angle of trajectory- anyone would be able to draw that conclusion. She let the fact settle for a moment- taking the opportunity to push her nerves down. They would not serve her and had no place to be entertained right now. She glanced over to Jarin, knowing he probably felt just as on edge as she did with this unfortunate confirmation of her suspicions. "I know I won't be able to control what you ultimately end up doing but, fifteen minutes." She reached for the knife hidden away in her boot. Once it was in hand she held it out to him- her grip on the blade end, the hilt held out in offering for him to take. It would do little to even the playing field if he found himself in a situation to use it, but it was better than nothing. She wasn't worried about herself, she could get her hands on something else to use in defense if she needed to. "That's all I'm asking. Give me fifteen minutes to get in and out before you jump in and do something potentially stupid."
"You need it more than I do," Jarin said, pushing away the knife. "Keep it." He reached into his own boot and pulled out his own knife, though he did not explain where he'd gotten it. That wasn't important. "You're going to get Mattie." He didn't promise that he would remain outside in the back. If something went wrong or she didn't come out in fifteen minutes, Jarin was going into the saloon after her. He wished he had a gun, but alas, the knife would have to do.
***
Inside the saloon, Billy Joe and Marcus Zedekiah lounged by the fireplace, several beer bottles littering the floor and one in each of their meaty hands. It was clear the men were all drunk, or very close to it. The sweaty body odor hung heavily in the air, somehow not suffocating any of the men.
"Jemima! Bring me another," Billy Joe ordered, dropping his bottle to the floor with a clatter. He held out his hand.
A pale young woman with black hair pulled away from her face in long ringlets hurried forward and with a wink, handed the big man another bottle. "Here y'are," she said cheerily, pressing a kiss to his temple and moving away. "Darn it, Jude, play another tune aside from that one!" she called to the man playing a wild rag on the piano.
***
Inside the saloon, Billy Joe and Marcus Zedekiah lounged by the fireplace, several beer bottles littering the floor and one in each of their meaty hands. It was clear the men were all drunk, or very close to it. The sweaty body odor hung heavily in the air, somehow not suffocating any of the men.
"Jemima! Bring me another," Billy Joe ordered, dropping his bottle to the floor with a clatter. He held out his hand.
A pale young woman with black hair pulled away from her face in long ringlets hurried forward and with a wink, handed the big man another bottle. "Here y'are," she said cheerily, pressing a kiss to his temple and moving away. "Darn it, Jude, play another tune aside from that one!" she called to the man playing a wild rag on the piano.
Satisfied that Jarin wouldn't be completely unarmed Dasha gave a nod and swiftly returned her own knife back to its hiding place. Hopefully there wouldn't be call for her to even draw it. "Quietly free the horses from the hitch posts and startle them off once I'm inside. I'd rather they not be easily accessible if Shiloh's men get it in their heads to follow after us when this is done." She didn't wait around for any verbal indication of agreement, she already knew he would do whatever needed to be done to help Mattie. Dasha approached the saloon doors. She allowed herself only one more moment of pause, long enough to school her expression into something blank and unreadable, before she strode on in. She automatically took a quick survey of the room- noting the number of individuals within it. More than she had had estimated for such an hour, but most appeared inebriated enough that they shouldn't present an issue.
She was aware of eyes on her as she crossed over to the counter where the barkeep was busy wiping down a glass. She paid the watchers no mind, not wanting to interact with anyone more than necessary. She stepped over a man who slumbered on the floor, an empty bottle clutched to his chest in the same manner a child might hold a teddybear, and made sure to avoid a damp spot on the floor that could have easily been the remnants of a spilled beer or just as easily some form of bodily fluid. "I need to speak with Shiloh." She said in lieu of a greeting.
The barkeep scanned her over once, keeping a bland expression on his face as he returned his attention to the glass in his hand. "Mr. Storm is currently attending to some important buisness, if you wish to see him you'll have to- "
Dasha cut him off before he could finish his statement. "He's expecting me." She hooked her thumb under the leather cord that held her ring and held it out for him to see, just as Shiloh had instructed her to do. It was not a total lie, he was expecting her to show up, just not tonight.
He seemed to consider it a moment "Very well . . . Parlor in the back." He gave a jerk of his chin to indicate the corresponding direction. Dasha gave him a nod of thanks before heading off in the direction he had indicated, weaving her way through the patrons to get there. Only a couple drunken fools tried to touch her on her way through. One was intoxicated enough he had leaned too far forward in his chair and lost his balance, finding the floor on his own. The other she swiftly brushed off with a growled warning that heavily contrasted the merry tune the piano player had taken to playing- her foremost focus was currently on reaching the parlor. She didn't have time to spare for drunkards who didn't know how to keep their hands to themselves right now.
Cigar smoke drifted from beneath the hem of the red velvet curtain that separated the private parlor from the rest of the saloon. She could hear the tones of casual conversation beyond, the thump of a glass being set down on a solid surface. The doorway wasn't guarded, that was the only detail she really cared about. She barged right in, knowing that if Shiloh had any men stationed in the main part of the Saloon they would most likely follow behind her. Six sets of eyes looked up to note her sudden intrusion, none of them Shiloh's.
Of everyone seated around the poker table Shiloh was the only one who hadn't so much as bothered to look up from his cards. "Miss Ripley," he greeted, not sounding the least bit surprised or rattled by her appearance. "It was tomorrow night that was agreed on, was it not." Not phrased as a question, but rather a statement. Dasha quickly scanned the other faces around the table through the haze of cigar smoke. Most she passed over without much note, but her eyes snagged on the glint of silver at one. Half of a silver star gleamed in the dim light from beneath the man's vest. A sheriffs badge she realized. Of course Shiloh would have the town sheriff in his good graces. There would be absolutely no chance of help from the law here then.
Dasha's attention quickly shifted back to Shiloh "Perhaps, but it seems buisness has drawn me here sooner." She studied the saloon owner who seemed to be at complete ease- his lit cigar dangling lazily between his fingers in one hand and playing cards fanned out in the other. A pretty brunette saloon girl stood behind him, massaging his shoulders. She didn't look any older than sixteen, too young to be stuck working in this filthy place. She tried to dismiss the fact as that wasn't why she was here but her jaw clenched regardless. She directed her attention elsewhere, taking note of the ivory handled revolver at his side and of the other places he could very well be concealing weapons on his person.
"So it seems it has." He replied, finally glancing up at her from his cards with an amused looking smile. He set his cards down face up for the other players to see, earning some groans and a few curses from his table mates. It was probably far from the first hand he had won tonight.
He swiftly collected his earnings and slyly orchestrated the disbanding of the game with a promised consolation of a free drink on the house. Only the sheriff lingered, clear headed enough that he had recognized it as an easy excuse for a dismissal and eyed Dasha, sizing up any danger she may present to his friend. He must not have deemed her a viable threat, for a few seconds later he was drawn away with very little coaxing from the young saloon girl who Shiloh had also waved off. Fool.
"So," Shiloh started as soon as the velvet curtain had rippled shut, leaving them alone. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Have you finally-"
Dasha cut him off, not interested in niceties or playing his little game any further. "Where is he." Not a question, but rather a dangerously calm demand for the knowledge.
"Your little pet prince?" Shiloh asked with a raised brow, tapping off the ash buildup from the end of his cigar "If you can't keep up with him how should-"
"You know d*mn well that's not who I mean." Her fingers itched to reach for her knife and hurl it at him but she forced them to remain still at her side.
The sheriff, having no desire to down one more swallow of flat and/or watered down drink decided to go out and get some fresh air. He would make himself useful and take a walk around the premises to make sure nothing was obviously amiss. He bid farewell to the other men he had played cards with and left his untouched last drink with the saloon girl who he had followed out of the parlor. While he didn't believe the woman who had barged in would be any problem to Shiloh, the man knew how to handle himself and if he needed backup it was just a yell away anyway, he wasn't as quick to write off the possibility that she may just be a mere distraction. It hadn't been all that long since an organized group of town people had synchronously thrown rocks through all the windows. They had been dealt with, and he would not allow such to happen again if he could help it. He strived to stay on Shiloh's good side for that seemed the wisest place to be.
((Sorry, been struggling with writer's block for this one - in order to write a good reply. I have not forgotten about either of them!))
((That is totally fine, take as long as you need! Thanks for checking in :) ))
Jarin kept his eyes on Dasha's retreating back as she went around the corner of the tavern. He gave her a few seconds; listening, he heard the sound of the door creak on its rusty hinges as she entered, and a soft thump of it shutting. She was inside. He counted to twenty and turned his gaze on the horses. Time to act, he thought, a wry smile lifting to his lips.
He crossed the dirt over towards the horses that calmly waiting for their owners to finish up business in the tavern. Most of them looked like they were sleeping, or at least dozing in the shade. Several had their heads lowered close to the hitching post. Occasionally, a tail flipped to ward off an irritating fly. Jarin felt a twinge of regret but as they were so relaxed, this might be the best chance he had. He'd easily startle them out of here if he had anything to do with it.
"Hey, guys," Jarin whispered in a low tone, slipping around the front of the hitching post. He whipped out his knife and began quickly sawing through all of the reins. It was faster than trying to undo the loops. A couple of the horses whickered at him, happy to take a few steps away from the post, but they weren't excited about running off. Not yet, Jarin thought grimly. He hurried back a few paces, collecting some small stones on the way.
Suddenly, Jarin started tossing the stones at the horses' rumps, immediately receiving the reaction he had been going for. Startled, the horses reared at the sudden pain inflicted upon their backsides. Neighs ripped from their throats, and one after another, they began racing away from the dangerous pelting stones. The beasts kicked up the dust, racing into the streets. Jarin did not wait a moment to become spotted but darted back into the woods where he could wait for Dasha, or go in after her if she did not come out any time soon. He didn't need to be caught as the one who let the horses run free.
A few people were screaming in the streets as the horses galloped by, little kids scattering from their games of marbles and tag and ladies crying out. A few men rushed by to try guiding or stopping the horses - Jarin didn't know which - and he was happy that it produced the right amount of chaos. The horses would be too spooked and far away for anyone to chase him and Dasha with.
The little boy, Mattie, had been tucked away in one of the many empty rooms upstairs. He was frightened of his angry father and had been quick to hide himself behind a crate of old furs and some musty coats that hung up in a closet. He was tired, hungry, and very scared. His father had told him to never run away again and he hated the look he'd seen in those eyes.
He crossed the dirt over towards the horses that calmly waiting for their owners to finish up business in the tavern. Most of them looked like they were sleeping, or at least dozing in the shade. Several had their heads lowered close to the hitching post. Occasionally, a tail flipped to ward off an irritating fly. Jarin felt a twinge of regret but as they were so relaxed, this might be the best chance he had. He'd easily startle them out of here if he had anything to do with it.
"Hey, guys," Jarin whispered in a low tone, slipping around the front of the hitching post. He whipped out his knife and began quickly sawing through all of the reins. It was faster than trying to undo the loops. A couple of the horses whickered at him, happy to take a few steps away from the post, but they weren't excited about running off. Not yet, Jarin thought grimly. He hurried back a few paces, collecting some small stones on the way.
Suddenly, Jarin started tossing the stones at the horses' rumps, immediately receiving the reaction he had been going for. Startled, the horses reared at the sudden pain inflicted upon their backsides. Neighs ripped from their throats, and one after another, they began racing away from the dangerous pelting stones. The beasts kicked up the dust, racing into the streets. Jarin did not wait a moment to become spotted but darted back into the woods where he could wait for Dasha, or go in after her if she did not come out any time soon. He didn't need to be caught as the one who let the horses run free.
A few people were screaming in the streets as the horses galloped by, little kids scattering from their games of marbles and tag and ladies crying out. A few men rushed by to try guiding or stopping the horses - Jarin didn't know which - and he was happy that it produced the right amount of chaos. The horses would be too spooked and far away for anyone to chase him and Dasha with.
The little boy, Mattie, had been tucked away in one of the many empty rooms upstairs. He was frightened of his angry father and had been quick to hide himself behind a crate of old furs and some musty coats that hung up in a closet. He was tired, hungry, and very scared. His father had told him to never run away again and he hated the look he'd seen in those eyes.
Shiloh settled on the edge of the card table, the shift in posture making his height closer to her own. Dasha recognized it as a silent bid to subconsciously win her trust by putting them on the same level, neutralizing the perception of any sort of physical advantage. It wouldn't work on her, she had learned the same tricks. If anything it made her distrust him that much more. "I'm afraid I have not the slightest clue what you are speaking of, Miss Ripley." He studied her, head tilted slightly to the side as he took a puff from his cigar.Dasha ground her teeth together, frustrated with his answer, or rather his lack thereof one. The cigar smoke wasn't helping matters - it was making her feel nauseous and that further shortened her already stretched taunt patience. Once she ceased the grind of her teeth she could make out muffled screams coming from the street and heard the telltale thumps and curses of a few hasty exits being made from the saloon beyond this little parlor. Jarin's part had at least been successful then. "Allow me to refresh your memory- light brown hair sunbleached to dirty blonde, dark brown eyes, about this tall." She held out her hand in a gesture to indicate the approximate height the boy stood. "Has your nose and jaw structure. Goes by the name of Mattie. Ring a bell?"
Dasha watched as understanding lit his eyes at last. "Well, I suppose that answers the question of where he's been. You needn't worry of him any longer. I've taken care of it, he will be a bother to you no more."
Dasha didn't buy that he had been totally ignorant of the boys location for so long, but she didn't bother wasting breath to call him out on it. "The only bother I've experienced recently is you. If you have hurt that boy I swear-"
"Now now Miss Ripley," Shiloh interrupted, not letting her finish her threat. "no use in getting yourself all worked up over nothing."
That comment severed the last thread of Dasha's fraying patience and she crossed the short distance between them in the blink of an eye- knife drawn from its hiding place and the blade to his throat. She pressed hard enough to blanch the skin underneath but not quite enough to draw blood. "A child's well-being is far from nothing."
Shiloh hadn't made to reach for any of his own weapons and hadn't so much as flinched. Infact he annoyingly seemed as at ease with a knife to his throat as he had been without one there. "Ah, seems I've hit a sore spot." He gave a rueful smile and, with little regard for the blade still at his throat, he reached up and took another puff from his cigar. His deep inhale made the pressure of the blade against his throat greater- just enough to draw a few beads of blood. "Tell you what, I'll make you a little deal. Sit down and play a friendly game of cards with me. Afterwards I'll escort you to the boy myself if you are still so inclined to know of his whereabouts."
Dasha had to suppress an incredulous eyeroll. He was still trying to make deals at the business end of a blade. "Or," she summoned her best mockingly sweet smile, "I can just dispatch you right here and now and tear this place apart to find him on my own."
"Perhaps." Shiloh let the word hang for a moment. "But I don't think you have it in you to kill me, or anyone else for that matter. Injure, maim, or handoff to their doom sure, but never kill by your own hand." He leaned in closer, letting the blade sink into his flesh and draw more beads of blood, clearly trying to call her bluff. "Feel free to prove me wrong . . . of course then you would also have to dispatch every other man in my employ. That might be a little ambitious for you, even if you do have the stomach for it."
For a long minute both remained unmoving and unblinking, waiting for the other to fold. In the end it was Dasha who did. She muttered a curse relating to his own paternal background and gave him a rough shove away from her blade. Even though she had put all her force behind it, the action barely jostled him. "Put out that cigar."
Shiloh didn't argue with her order. He snuffed it out on the edge of the already scarred table, clearly knowing he had won. He stood from the table edge and then commenced to pull out the nearest chair for Dasha to take a seat in. She pointedly ignored the gesture and circled around the table to the spot he most certainly had planned on taking. Although it had mostly just been a petty act of defiance, it worked in her favor to have the doorway in her view. She watched as he took a seat in the chair she had refused and gathered the scattered cards. He offered them to her to shuffle but she shook her head. She didn't care about the fairness of this game, she just wanted it over with.
This close up she finally got a good look at the signet ring he wore while his hands were busy with shuffling the cards. She could now tell that the design etched into its surface was a clock face with two swords crossed infront of it. She knew that sigil. Storm. The barkeep had called him Mr. Storm earlier. Shiloh Storm. The jerk hadn't even bothered with an alias. She made sure to keep her expression blank as he began distributing cards to the both of them. "So what is it that you really want from me?" She asked, cutting to the chase. "I know you didn't simply wish for a leisurely card game."
He set the remainder of the deck in the middle of the table and glanced up at her. "Smart girl . . . I have a business proposition for you. One that will prove mutually beneficial." He picked up his hand and glanced at the cards but Dasha didn't bother with her own, they remained untouched in a little pile on the table. "A business proposition?" She repeated, "Why would I want to work in any capacity with a rogue ex bounty hunter who has no morals, no regard for regulations, and who now has a substantial price placed on his own head?"
"I have morals Miss Ripley, stronger ones than that regulatory board I assure you . . . at least I make my crimes no secret, and do not try to twist my wrongdoings into noble acts." He drew a card from the top of the remaining deck and, apparently dissatisfied with it, discarded it.
Dasha didn't even know what particular card game he had set up to play, but it didn't much matter. "Get to the point, Storm."
He set aside his cards, giving up the guise of the game. "I can help you break out of the board's clutches." He leaned back in his chair and studied her, waiting for any reaction. "You can have your independence. Start over somewhere else. Sometime else. You could even take your little stalkholm syndrome suffering captive with you if you wish. The main point is, with my help they won't be able to touch you. You won't have to worry any longer about debts or the devastation one tiny microchip can cause."
Dasha mirrored Shiloh's posture- leaning back in her own chair and watching him with a practiced blank expression. ". . . Alright, you have my attention. Three minutes. I suggest you make the most of them"
Approximately three minutes later Dasha exited the private parlor alongside Shiloh. She had listened to his spiel, but had not agreed to anything . . . nor had she outright turned him down. The latter had been her initial intention. She had went in with a decidedly closed mind, intending only to listen to his pitch as a means to an end. But if what he had spoke was true . . . well, it would be objectively foolish to completely burn that bridge. She hated that. What she hated more was knowing that even if she had been in a place that would of allowed her to directly turn him down, she wasn't sure she would of. Even now she was aware of his words hanging around in the recesses of her mind- lingering like a siren song. She silently willed them to fade as Shiloh led her through the main room, past the bar, through a doorway, and up a set of stairs. He turned right at the top of the stairs, and passed a couple closed doors before stopping. "You'll find him in there." He said, giving an indicative nod to the closed door at the end of the hall. "Probably best if you go alone." He pulled a tarnished skeleton key from his pocket and held it out to Dasha in offering.
She eyed it, and then him -still expecting there to be some form of trick despite the fact that so far it seemed Shiloh had stuck to his word. Unable to find anything immediately alarming, she reached out to take the key and continue on to the door, but Shiloh's grip on it remained firm, forcing her to stay in place. "Think about my offer, but don't wait too long to act. We both know time is a luxury that is not on your side." With that being said he let go of the key and turned on his heel to head back the way he came. He spoke an after thought over his shoulder once he reached the first stair. "When you grow bored of playing petty hero or finish paying penance for past deeds, send the boy back."
Dasha's grip on the key tightened but she kept her mouth shut and simply waited until his footsteps started up again and then faded as he reached the last stair. She took in a deep, calming breath to clear her head of Shiloh before going over to the door he had pointed out. She guided the key into the lock and gave it a quick turn, the mechanism giving a click as it shifted out of place. Dasha turned the handle and let it drift open. The room was dim, a shade drawn down over the sole window within it. She checked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was around before taking a tentative step over the threshold. "Mattie." She called, not knowing exactly where the boy was within the room. "Mattie, where are you?"
Jarin hid himself far enough back in the woods where he hoped he wouldn't be found - he was only a prince tagging after Dasha, so he did not have any of her training. He hoped he didn't stand out obvious. If the men inside found him, they'd sooner kill him than hold onto him. Unlike Dasha, he was just a nobody other than maybe a lot of cash whether he was brought in dead or alive. Dasha held many secrets and she was one of them. She was a bounty hunter. There was nothing else for him to do except wait and stay on the alert. He could carry the boy and run with him after Dasha to escape if he had to. Jarin detested waiting like this.
***
Mattie shrank back further into the closet's shadows at the sound of the door opening, wood creaking on the hinges. He covered a hand over his face, flinching with each tiny sound that met his ears. He did not want to die or be hurt by his father again for running away.
Dasha's voice echoed in the musty room. She was calling for him. Was this a trap, or did she sincerely want to know where he was for his sake? He did not reply. He had run away from Dasha as well in fear that she had some connection to his father and now that she was here, he doubted it less.
Let's play the quiet game, an old voice from years ago echoed in his head. Shh...the bandits are in town and we don't want them coming to find little boys. We'll be good and quiet, and when they go away, I can get you some stick candy. Okay? And we can read books by the fireplace. Won't that be nice?
Mattie didn't remember who spoke that to him. The voice he recognized, but the face had been blurred for years. It was part of his life to run like a little ground squirrel across the prairie, ready to hide at a moment's notice.
***
Mattie shrank back further into the closet's shadows at the sound of the door opening, wood creaking on the hinges. He covered a hand over his face, flinching with each tiny sound that met his ears. He did not want to die or be hurt by his father again for running away.
Dasha's voice echoed in the musty room. She was calling for him. Was this a trap, or did she sincerely want to know where he was for his sake? He did not reply. He had run away from Dasha as well in fear that she had some connection to his father and now that she was here, he doubted it less.
Let's play the quiet game, an old voice from years ago echoed in his head. Shh...the bandits are in town and we don't want them coming to find little boys. We'll be good and quiet, and when they go away, I can get you some stick candy. Okay? And we can read books by the fireplace. Won't that be nice?
Mattie didn't remember who spoke that to him. The voice he recognized, but the face had been blurred for years. It was part of his life to run like a little ground squirrel across the prairie, ready to hide at a moment's notice.
Dasha listened for an answer that did not come, each too silent second that passed roaring in her ears. Even when she stilled she couldn't detect any telltale rustle of movement from within the room that might of given away the boy's location. The only hint of sound was that which drifted up from downstairs. A very muffled version of the tune being played on the piano. The barely audible smash of glass as someone dropped something- most likely a bottle. Of course Mattie wouldn't choose to answer her, they hadn't been on the best terms as of late. She took another step, checking behind a low stack of crates. ". . . I know you are probably still mad at me. That's fine. You can be mad at me all you want, that is your right. Just let it be somewhere else, somewhere that isn't here.."
The thought that he may not be able to answer bounced around at the back of her mind, and despite her best efforts to keep it at bay it made her feel anxious. "Please, Mattie." the statement as much a plea and hope that he wasn't tucked away somewhere too injured to answer as she now feared as it was a wish for him to make his presence known of his own accord. She made her way around another haphazard pile of stuff and checked in the slim space under the small bed, greeted with nothing but empty space and a swirl of disturbed dust that made her sneeze. She let the overhang of the thin blanket fall back into place and straightened, perhaps a little too fast as her vision threatened to blacken around the edges. As a safeguard she placed a hand on the foot board to steady herself and waited for it to pass, trying not to think about Shiloh's earlier words. That's all this was- a product of the power of suggestion. As long as she didn't let it have power over her she would be fine. Sure enough the issue resolved with that thought.
She elected to stay where she was anyway. The only way this was going to work out was if Mattie chose it. She did not want to drag him out of here, that would make her seem little better than his father. For there to be any chance of him choosing to make his presence known he would need to have some sense of safety- actively searching him out was probably counter intuitive to setting the scene for that dynamic. "Let me get you out of this place." She tried again, "Jesse is waiting for us outside." She knew Jarin was most likely getting anxious by now. She had already been in here longer than she had hoped to be. She just needed a little longer.
Mattie's insides squeezed as he fought to keep himself from crying out to Dasha. He clenched his hands into fists. He was afraid that she had something to do with his daddy, his mean awful daddy who did not care a single mite about him.
The dust from the old stinky furs and the musty blankets was threatening his nostrils. He was going to sneeze! Mattie rubbed his nose several times to do away with the sensation and listened to Dasha's voice trickling around the room. Jesse was out there too. Both of them were waiting for him, but it didn't make any sense. There were so many bad men downstairs that just the two of them wouldn't be able to get away safely without being hurt. Mattie knew how evil they all could be, and that was another reason why he was so terrified of his father and his father's inn. He did not want anything bad happening to them if they did not know how bad the men were.
After a moment, Mattie nudged the old coats aside and his little blond head poked out from the closet. He seemed very small indeed, and his face was conflicted.
"Dasha? You'll get hurt," he whispered.
The dust from the old stinky furs and the musty blankets was threatening his nostrils. He was going to sneeze! Mattie rubbed his nose several times to do away with the sensation and listened to Dasha's voice trickling around the room. Jesse was out there too. Both of them were waiting for him, but it didn't make any sense. There were so many bad men downstairs that just the two of them wouldn't be able to get away safely without being hurt. Mattie knew how evil they all could be, and that was another reason why he was so terrified of his father and his father's inn. He did not want anything bad happening to them if they did not know how bad the men were.
After a moment, Mattie nudged the old coats aside and his little blond head poked out from the closet. He seemed very small indeed, and his face was conflicted.
"Dasha? You'll get hurt," he whispered.
The movement drew Dasha's eye and she released a relieved breath when she caught the first flash of Mattie's blond hair in between the dark colored coats. "Don't worry about me, I'll be okay." She assured automatically, eyes scanning over his face and looking for any obvious signs of injury there. "I'm a lot tougher than I look," She offered a small smile "and this is hardly the first time I've put myself in a risky situation." She started to take a step toward the closet but then thought better of it and stilled again. After a moment she elected to instead take a knee, putting herself at the boy's level so she was not standing any taller than him. "But I would like to try and avoid as much conflict as possible and therfore could use your help if you're willing. I'm sure you know all the best ways to sneak out of here." She knew she wouldn't have any problems with Shiloh for now, but the others could very well be a different story. It would be best to avoid them as much as she could and that meant finding a different route of exit than the main saloon door. If she hadn't of been racing against time to find Mattie she would of observed and taken note of all the possible exits before entering. "I'm not familiar with the building like you are. If you will guide us, I will make sure you get out of here . . . I won't let anyone lay another finger on you."
Mattie did not want to come across as afraid of his father but he was worried he already had. He had been hiding from him in this room after being thrown in here. Really, it had been all of his own fault. When he had run away towards Dasha and Jarin, he had barely escaped. Then foolishly, he had let anger get the best of him and he had gone off on his own. Of course his father would send out men to bring him back.
"He's right outside the door, isn't he?" Mattie asked in a small voice. He crept out from behind the coats until he had fully emerged from the closet and was standing nervously in front of Dasha. Overall, he appeared unharmed aside from a few bruises dotting his arms.
"He's right outside the door, isn't he?" Mattie asked in a small voice. He crept out from behind the coats until he had fully emerged from the closet and was standing nervously in front of Dasha. Overall, he appeared unharmed aside from a few bruises dotting his arms.
Once he fully emerged from his hiding place Dasha took a quick scan of the boy, taking note of but not lingering on any of his visible injuries for too long. Right now she had to maintain a degree of detachment and take in everything from a merely factual stance. As long as there were no broken bones and Mattie could move on his own that was enough. She could allow herself to be angry over the bruises that painted his arms later."He's downstairs somewhere." She had made a point to watch and wait until Shiloh had been halfway down the stairs before she had dared to approach the door to this room and open it. "I can't be sure exactly where." It was too difficult to track specific movement from below with all the sounds bleeding together and the floor boards muffling everything. She guessed he had most likely returned to the room she had found him in. He didn't seem the type to linger around the general public that visited the saloon for longer than absolutely necessary.
"I don't want him to get you," Mattie said quietly. He was worried and since he unfortunately knew what Shiloh could do, he didn't wish it on anyone else. "But I want to get out of here." He glanced around and even went so far as to sneak across the floor - avoiding places where he knew the boards were particularly squeaky, as he had been locked up here many times - and peeked out the window. He only did so briefly, however, and quickly returned back to Dasha's side. "Is Jarin here? There is a back door that we can run out of into the woods," he suggested. "But we have to go downstairs."
Dasha knew they wouldn't have to worry about Shiloh- at least for now- but kept that bit of information to herself. That would only work to incriminate her in the boy's eyes, even if she had little intention of taking up the offer Shiloh had placed on the table. No, she silently corrected, not little intention but rather no intention. She would not entertain a single word that he had spoken. She would not work with or indebt herself to such a snake of a man, even if it did mean she was rather choosing to gamble heavily with her life. There had to be another viable option. She refused to actually believe he had her backed against the wall that he so clearly believed he had her against. Mattie's question of Jarin dispelled the line of thought from her mind for the time being. "Oh. . .Yeah. He's most likely hidden amongst the trees somewhere right now. I had him loose the horses from the hitchpost a little bit after I came in." She answered, now back to solely focusing on the issue immediately before her. "That back door will work." She confirmed, though she wished it wasn't down stairs. That only increased the chance of running into unsavory drunk patrons or friends of Shilohs, but it couldn't be helped. "If we cross paths with anyone on the way out I want you to run for it. Don't look back and don't stop until you are safely amongst the trees, no matter what."
"You have to come with me too," Mattie said stubbornly. He seemed very worried that Dasha wouldn't stay with him and perhaps would be overtaken by Shiloh and his henchmen. He glanced around the upstairs hallway, trying to rack his brain for a better solution. He felt awful about all of this; it had been his choice to run away and he did not want them to get hurt because of him.
"I got another idea," said the young boy. "At the end of the hallway is a window. It's sort of old and it might be hard to get open, but if we can, we can sneak outside onto the roof and climb down the back. Then we are less likely to come across anyone if we aren't too loud."
"I got another idea," said the young boy. "At the end of the hallway is a window. It's sort of old and it might be hard to get open, but if we can, we can sneak outside onto the roof and climb down the back. Then we are less likely to come across anyone if we aren't too loud."
Dasha entertained the new suggestion but ultimately decided against it. While it would be the best way to avoid running into anyone in theory, it could end up being more trouble in practice. Many things could go wrong. The window could groan or screech if it needed to be forced open, which would likely prompt an investigation of the noise if it wasn't timed correctly and someone heard it. Even if she did manage to get the window open without a sound, there was the matter of the roof. Knowing Shiloh, it was probable it hadn't been properly maintained and she didn't know that she trusted it to hold Mattie's weight, let alone her own. Crash landing through it would be counterintuitive to keeping a low profile- as would be being spotted out on it by other townsfolk who could raise an alarm. Even if they did manage to make it to the edge without incident and without being spotted there was still the matter of getting safely to the ground. If worst came to worst Dasha knew she could tolerate the drop just fine, but she imagined little Mattie might not fare so well. Broken bones were not a possibility she wanted on the table for him. No, all things considered it would be best to go with the back door.
"That's a fair idea, but I think the back door is still our best bet. It'll be alright. We'll both get out of here fine." She took one last look around the room, formulating a further plan. Her eyes snagged on a crate stuffed full of old linens. "All we have to do is look busy, like we're doing what we're meant to be doing, and no one will bother us." She went over to the crate and pulled out the top most sheet, giving it a quick inspection. It looked like it had been here a while and would pass well enough for dirty ones in need of a wash. She pulled out a few more and wadded them together until they were well wrinkled and amassed into one big rumpled pile. "Here, we'll both take an arm full. You follow right behind me and if anyone confronts us just let me do the talking, okay?"
Mattie knew there were some risks going out the window, but being a young child, he hadn't gone through them as fast as Dasha had. He just knew that they were in a bad place, they needed to get out, and they had few options and little time left.
"You think they'll let us just walk right out?" he asked doubtfully. He hated being referred to as a small boy, but he knew in that moment that he was one of the few kids who spent any time around the tavern. It would seem a bit out of place. "H-he doesn't usually have a lot of kids around this place." He grabbed one of the armfuls of dusty old linens; the bundle was so big that it obscured his vision but hopefully made him a little less noticeable as Shiloh's son. "They might not want to talk. Sometimes they like to just beat people up instead." But he nodded anyway, agreeing to her words.
"You think they'll let us just walk right out?" he asked doubtfully. He hated being referred to as a small boy, but he knew in that moment that he was one of the few kids who spent any time around the tavern. It would seem a bit out of place. "H-he doesn't usually have a lot of kids around this place." He grabbed one of the armfuls of dusty old linens; the bundle was so big that it obscured his vision but hopefully made him a little less noticeable as Shiloh's son. "They might not want to talk. Sometimes they like to just beat people up instead." But he nodded anyway, agreeing to her words.
"It won't seem odd if they assume I brought you in with me." Dasha assured him. "It's not uncommon for laundresses to have younger siblings or other children assist them." She had observed as much for herself while at the river caring for the boarding house linens. "We could darken your hair with a little soot from the fireplace." She suggested, remembering the dusty hearth she had seen peeking out from behind a row of crates across the small room. She doubted it had been cleaned before this room had been converted to storage. "Your hair is one of your most defining features. If we take it out of the equation I don't think they will be able to identify you as swiftly. Would you be okay with that?" While it would help she would leave that decision up to him, he deserved some autonomy- even if it was just deciding over a very temporary change. "If it starts to look like its going to go south for any reason we can throw the sheets at them and make a run for it. That will buy us a few extra seconds anyway." It wouldn't be much but she knew a few extra seconds could make all the difference in the world. With any luck they wouldn't need to use that desperate trick anyway.
It took Mattie a few minutes to decide. He wasn't afraid to get a little dirty and if it helped them escape, he would do it. "Alright," he said, tossing down his bundle of sheets and hurrying to the fireplace. He stepped lightly on his toes in an effort not to make loud noises transfer down into the rooms below himself. He didn't hesitate before crouching and grabbing handfuls of the soot, rubbing it between his palms to coat them in black ash. Then he reached up and streaked his hands through his hair several times. He repeated this process, moving as fast as he could, knowing he only had a short time to work.
"How's this?" he asked, turning to look over at Dasha.
"How's this?" he asked, turning to look over at Dasha.
Dasha went over to his side and gave his hair a quick inspection to make sure he hadn't missed covering any patches of blond. "Perfect." She answered after she had checked, her only critique being to reach out and brush the wayward specks of soot that had speckled his shirt collar in the process away. She wiped her fingertips on the edge of one of the sheets to make sure there was no incriminating stains that lingered and then offered it to Mattie to wipe his hands on.After he was done with it she discarded that particular sheet at the bottom of the remaining pile of linens that was staying in the room. "Alright." She gathered up the sheets that the boy had discarded and then handed them off to him again, arranging them just so in his arms. "We're going to walk with purpose. Not too slow but not too fast either. We don't want to look like we're sneaking around or rushing to get out, that will only draw attention. Once we're outside we'll head for the trees." She started gathering up her own previously discarded pile of linens. "And remember if anything goes wrong we toss the sheets and run for that back door." She reminded him. She wanted to make sure they were on the same page with that. "Now, let's get out of here." She opened the door and stepped out into the hall, trusting that Mattie would follow close behind as she had earlier instructed.
Mattie wrinkled his nose in something like distaste when she checked his hair and brushed the excess soot from his collar. It was just a little dirt and it seemed funny how she wanted to make it look "perfectly dirty."
He wiped his hands on the bottom of one of the sheets and scratched his sunburnt nose, looking up at Dasha. Grabbing the sheets from her arms, he nodded, holding them carefully. The bundle was large, but not big enough to the point where he might drop them all over the floor and cause more of a hindrance.
"Got it. Walk with purpose, head for the trees," he repeated, giving one last nod. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, stepping out into the hall. This was it. They'd escape and then he'd never run like that again. Not if it meant he'd be captured by his father or his father's men again.
The hallway was empty so it was relatively easy to walk down towards the rickety steps. Some of the old floorboards squeaked beneath their feet but in general there was nothing they could do about that except tread as carefully as they could. The emptiness did not take away the anxiety that pricked at Mattie's heart as each little noise nearly made him jump.
Soon they were on the staircase, still not seeing anyone. The drunken laughter from the game tables filtered up towards them, followed by a few angry shouts that soon settled again. But something was stirring; Jarin had loosed the horses and several of the men had risen at the sound of the chaos ensuing outside in the streets due to the galloping beasts. The men were angry now that they realized their steeds were rushing off and they had no horses just outside the tavern with which to chase them on.
He wiped his hands on the bottom of one of the sheets and scratched his sunburnt nose, looking up at Dasha. Grabbing the sheets from her arms, he nodded, holding them carefully. The bundle was large, but not big enough to the point where he might drop them all over the floor and cause more of a hindrance.
"Got it. Walk with purpose, head for the trees," he repeated, giving one last nod. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, stepping out into the hall. This was it. They'd escape and then he'd never run like that again. Not if it meant he'd be captured by his father or his father's men again.
The hallway was empty so it was relatively easy to walk down towards the rickety steps. Some of the old floorboards squeaked beneath their feet but in general there was nothing they could do about that except tread as carefully as they could. The emptiness did not take away the anxiety that pricked at Mattie's heart as each little noise nearly made him jump.
Soon they were on the staircase, still not seeing anyone. The drunken laughter from the game tables filtered up towards them, followed by a few angry shouts that soon settled again. But something was stirring; Jarin had loosed the horses and several of the men had risen at the sound of the chaos ensuing outside in the streets due to the galloping beasts. The men were angry now that they realized their steeds were rushing off and they had no horses just outside the tavern with which to chase them on.
Though the hall was empty Dasha remained on high alert. She took note of every noise- from the unavoidable extra creaks of the floorboards that confirmed Mattie was still following behind her to the general tone of the conversations coming from the main room below. The sudden elevation of voices when they reached the rough midpoint of the stairs had her momentarily holding her breath as they continued their descent, but it quickly became clear that it was merely an argument between two individuals that fizzled out just as quickly as it had popped up. By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs it was apparent something was brewing. A few murmurs shifted into a collective of them and chairs began scraping across the floor as their occupants pushed away from the tables and began to rise. They were running out of time. Luckily the attention in the room was towards the front of the establishment for the time being, leaving them a clear route to the back door. Eager to get out before the brewing storm could come to a head she quickened her pace slightly, knowing that Mattie would follow her lead. It was only when they actually reached the back door without issue and she began to turn the knob that Dasha felt some semblance of ease return.
That ease was short lived. As she passed through the threshold she spared a glance back to check on Mattie and, with her attention diverted, ran right into a man who had been about to enter himself. "Watch it." He growled and made to shove past her. Knowing he was about a second away from noticing Mattie behind her she decided to lean into the bumbling washer woman image. She murmured an apology with downcast eyes, purposely stepping on his toes as she made it seem like she was trying to shift out of his way but was really shifting to better conceal the boy behind her. The man's breath hissed through his teeth in a pained exhale- his attention snapping solely back to her. His hand raised to strike before he had even a chance to draw in another breath, proving violence was second nature to him.
She should have let the strike land to maintain the ruse but much as violence seemed to be in this man's second nature, self defense was in her's. Reflexively she blocked the blow, her armload of sheets dropped in favor of catching his wrist before he made contact.
For a mere moment the man froze. Clearly he hadn't expected this outcome to be on the table, but the shock value of her action rapidly degraded. The blank look on his face morphed into one of realization, and then fury as he yanked his wrist free of her grasp and instantly went to grab for the knife hanging from his belt. "You little bi-" the curse was cut short as with one fluid motion Dasha managed to swipe his gun from it's holster and swept his legs out from underneath him- sending the man toppling backwards and into the nearby horse trough. She didn't wait to see how he faired with the murky water and instead turned to grab Mattie's hand, all too aware of the other conflict they had narrowly left behind that sounded like it had now escalated. "Let's move" she said, already starting to pull him along into a run. Although she didn't spare a glance back she could hear the splashes of the man fighting his way free of the trough and then a string of curses as he realized he no longer had his gun and could not fire after them. She had been right to swipe it while she had the opportunity.
As the tussle between the man and Dasha rose up in the middle of the doorway, Mattie nearly yelped as he saw the man's hand reach for his gun. But then the splash sounded and everyone was running all at once. Several of the other men nearby had seen the brief but unlucky interaction (at least for the man who'd landed into the horse trough) and were advancing, cursing angrily at the woman. They hadn't even seen Mattie up until this point and now that he was hurrying along behind Dasha, a few men leapt after them.
"Come back here, you!!" someone shouted. Footsteps pounded in the dust and just as the man was reaching to snatch Mattie from Dasha's grip, a horse burst out of the woods, whinnying and snorting and coming up alongside the two fleeing characters. The beast paused briefly beside them, though it stamped nervously and tossed its head.
A strong set of hands reached down and swung Mattie up in the saddle, then extended again to pull Dasha up with him. "Come on!" shouted Jarin, and once everyone was holding on, he spurred the beast on. It was a big load to carry this many people at once but Mattie was little and they only had to outrun the nearby men. Behind them, someone fired a gun, a bullet whistling just by them and grazing the top of Jarin's shoulder. The gunshot was enough to send the horse galloping off into the woods.
"Duck! Lots of branches!" Jarin shouted again, not wanting any of them to be swept off into the dust.
"Come back here, you!!" someone shouted. Footsteps pounded in the dust and just as the man was reaching to snatch Mattie from Dasha's grip, a horse burst out of the woods, whinnying and snorting and coming up alongside the two fleeing characters. The beast paused briefly beside them, though it stamped nervously and tossed its head.
A strong set of hands reached down and swung Mattie up in the saddle, then extended again to pull Dasha up with him. "Come on!" shouted Jarin, and once everyone was holding on, he spurred the beast on. It was a big load to carry this many people at once but Mattie was little and they only had to outrun the nearby men. Behind them, someone fired a gun, a bullet whistling just by them and grazing the top of Jarin's shoulder. The gunshot was enough to send the horse galloping off into the woods.
"Duck! Lots of branches!" Jarin shouted again, not wanting any of them to be swept off into the dust.
It had been smart on Jarin's part to hold onto one of the horses. It would provide an undeniable advantage over the men who were all too quickly gaining ground. They would not be able to evade so many of them on foot much longer, a horse was exactly what they needed for the best chance of a swift and clean get away . . . even if Dasha wasn't thrilled about that fact. There was a lot that could go wrong with horse riding. Luckily she didn't have time to ruminate on the subject at all. The man who had been close to grabbing Mattie before he had been thrown off kilter by the sudden emergence of the horse had recovered and looked angrier than before. The others were not very far behind him anymore and she caught the glint of metal in the hands of the man who was still dripping wet from the horse trough. It seemed he had managed to get his hands on another gun and was scrambling to load it. She knew once the first shot was fired, a volley of them would likely follow- it would be like opening the floodgates. That was why she had yet to so much as check how many chambers of the swiped revolver housed bullets. She knew at most she could have six shots- far too few for comfort in this situation. They needed to get out of here before bullets started flying, she did not want Mattie or Jarin in the middle of such a thing. For that reason she automatically threw her reservations about the horse on the backburner and accepted the hand up without hesitation- kicking off the closest man who lunged forward and grabbed at her, trying to keep her on the ground.
The horse was off in a flash, the first shot coming mere moments after the creature was in motion and sending it barreling towards the trees. As expected more shots then followed, though they were clearly less carefully aimed than the first. Bullets whizzed past in various wide arcs, lodging into trees and sending off sprays of bark fragments as the horse passed through the tree line and into the rain starved foliage. Dasha made sure to watch for low branches, her grip tightening nervously even though the men's angry voices were starting to grow more distant and they now had some tree cover to act as a hedge against the bullets.
Now that they weren't directly facing down the barrel of a gun there was room for her to be worried over their current mode of transportation. There were bound to be more hazards in the woods- roots and uneven ground that the horse's hooves could catch on, snakes or other wildlife that could startle it and cause it to rear. The prospect of falling off and being trampled, or being pinned under it if it happened to stumble and fall had her heart pounding faster than it had when the bullets had started flying. Gunfights she could face with a cool head, horses not so much- though to be fair her line of work had exposed her rather disproportionately to the former rather than the latter. "Is now a good time to mention I really don't like horses?" she shouted to be heard over the sound of the wind and the clop of the horse's hooves.
"There's never a good time to mention that so hang on!" Jarin shouted back towards Dasha. It worried him a little, but the horse was their only means of rapid transport out of this area and they couldn't throw that away. The horse whinnied fearfully at the sound of the bullets peppering the trees and surrounding foliage. Thankfully, other than the one that caused Jarin's shoulder to bleed, none of the bullets had found a proper target. Just thinking about it made the wound burn but the adrenaline pumping through his body kept it mild and really, he was more worried about making sure Dasha and Mattie were both safe.
The horse continued on until its sides were soaked in sweat and the three were barely hanging on. At this point, the gunfire had died down and they were a good safe distance away from the danger. The trees thinned and the horse stumbled wearily from the rough ground to where it smoothed out to a massive field of grass.
"We're totally screwed," Jarin said out loud before he could help himself. "We can't go back in town anytime soon or we'll be instantly recognized, and there's no proper food or water out here. And I've now become a horse thief and probably an abductor and we have no way out of this stupid time period mess."
The horse continued on until its sides were soaked in sweat and the three were barely hanging on. At this point, the gunfire had died down and they were a good safe distance away from the danger. The trees thinned and the horse stumbled wearily from the rough ground to where it smoothed out to a massive field of grass.
"We're totally screwed," Jarin said out loud before he could help himself. "We can't go back in town anytime soon or we'll be instantly recognized, and there's no proper food or water out here. And I've now become a horse thief and probably an abductor and we have no way out of this stupid time period mess."
Dasha certainly had no plans to let go anytime soon and was about to voice that fact when the horse's gait was momentarily thrown off rhythm by some unseen hazard- most likely a loose rock or uneven crack in the ground from the drought. Though the horse recovered near immediately and it was hardly worth noting, it was enough to make her swallow the words she had been about to say before they had a chance to morph into a frightened gasp and to cause her heart to seize for a single beat. For the rest of the all-too-fast ride through the forest thoughts of any conversation were forgotten as her mind centered solely on getting through the next few seconds, and then the next few seconds after that. By the time the horse passed through the last of the trees and into the grassy field her muscles had cramped and tired from maintaining such a tight hold and tense posture. Her nerves began to ease up a little as the horse slowed, but they would not disperse until she was back down on her own two feet again. Jarin's voice snapped her back in to thinking about the bigger picture of things. "It's going to be alright." She insisted. "We just have to take this one step at a time. First things first, let's get off this horse before it collapses or anyone falls off."
Dasha waited for the horse to come to a stop and then slid off the left side. Her knees threatened to buckle under her upon impact with the ground but she caught herself, using the horse as leverage until her legs got used to the idea of holding her up again. "Alright Mattie, you next" she took a step towards the front of the horse and, with a clearer head now that she was safely off the beast, had the presence of mind to scan the child over for injury as she helped him down. Luckily he still looked to be in the same physical condition she had found him in. That at least was a point in their favor.
She moved on to offer Jarin a hand down- scanning him over much the same as she had Mattie. Her eyes quickly snagged on the crimson soaking his sleeve, her heart seizing for the second time that day. She was careful to keep her outward expression calm, not wanting to alarm Mattie if he happened to be watching, and reminded herself to take this one step at a time just like everything else. "How bad?" She asked softly once he had dismounted.
Jarin helped Mattie down despite the child's weight pulling painfully on his injured shoulder. It was so stupid; the moment one injury healed up, he seemed to get himself another. It was so inconvenient especially since they weren't in the most ideal situation and it wasn't just himself to look after. Dasha was right at least partially; they'd figure things out. One step at a time.
He dismounted and turned to face Dasha, his dark eyes settling on her gray-blue ones. He was so tired from all of what they'd been constantly going through and it felt like it would never stop. It seemed like Dasha was the only thing that was remotely normal around here anymore. The only thing that was unchanging.
"I'm fine," he shook his head, though he could feel the pain welling up now thtat the adrenaline was wearing off. "First things first is figuring out where to go from here and what to do."
Mattie glanced at the two young adults but he did not interrupt and instead turned, walking a few feet away to give them more space. He would not run off.
He dismounted and turned to face Dasha, his dark eyes settling on her gray-blue ones. He was so tired from all of what they'd been constantly going through and it felt like it would never stop. It seemed like Dasha was the only thing that was remotely normal around here anymore. The only thing that was unchanging.
"I'm fine," he shook his head, though he could feel the pain welling up now thtat the adrenaline was wearing off. "First things first is figuring out where to go from here and what to do."
Mattie glanced at the two young adults but he did not interrupt and instead turned, walking a few feet away to give them more space. He would not run off.
Dasha studied Jarin a long moment, clearly not entirely believing his claim of being fine. In that time her fingers itched to reach up and sweep aside the errant tuft of his sweat dampened dark hair that hung out of place from the rest. She forced her hand to remain still at her side as it felt like that would be crossing some invisible line, one that she knew she should not cross. She shifted half a step back for good measure, her eyes flickering away from his face and down to his shoulder. Clinical. She needed to be clinical, focus only on the facts. That was getting harder and harder all the time though, especially when it came to Jarin and Mattie. Fact one: blood. She didn't like the amount staining his shirt, but he seemed steady on his feet. For now that would have to be enough.
Fact two: they needed water. With this heat that was one of the more immediate issues they would face. "We can let the horse wander, if there's any safe water nearby it will find it . . . If a good source is found we can set up a temporary camp somewhere near it."
Jarin couldn't take his eyes off her. Something in the back of his mind told him that was wrong and that he needed to focus on the reality of their situation, not create more problems. He nodded slowly, not worrying about the horse. The other horses he'd run off would hopefully wander back towards town but there was nothing he could do about that now.
With his good right arm, he brought his hand up and placed it just under Dasha's jaw, the contact of their skin sending a spark down his arm. He was crossing a dangerous line and part of his brain told him to stop, but the other part refused. His gaze grew more intense and suddenly without hesitation his second hand was cupping her cheek, pulling her in closer to him, and his lips pressed against hers.
It was quick and only lasted for a few moments, and he pulled back, blinking like he couldn't believe what he'd just done. "I...I'm sorry, I just..." he shook his head and let his hands drop back to his sides.
With his good right arm, he brought his hand up and placed it just under Dasha's jaw, the contact of their skin sending a spark down his arm. He was crossing a dangerous line and part of his brain told him to stop, but the other part refused. His gaze grew more intense and suddenly without hesitation his second hand was cupping her cheek, pulling her in closer to him, and his lips pressed against hers.
It was quick and only lasted for a few moments, and he pulled back, blinking like he couldn't believe what he'd just done. "I...I'm sorry, I just..." he shook his head and let his hands drop back to his sides.
Dasha had been making a point to avoid direct eye contact again, knowing it would be counterproductive to maintaining a clinical mindset. She made herself focus on the problems already set before them and started to add on to her tentative action plan aloud. "As for the horse thievery thing, as long as we send it back off towards. . ." Her words trailed off at Jarin's touch, that prior train of thought abruptly departing the station without her. Slowly her eyes trailed back up to meet his. She knew she should stop this. Brush away his hand, take several steps back, and continue on as if nothing had happened. She should forget about this moment. Forget the warmth radiating out from his touch, and the utter peace that had settled over her with it. That would be the smart thing to do, the right thing.
She did not want to do the right thing.
Dasha did not brush Jarin's hand away or so much as shift backwards. Instead she let his other hand settle on her cheek and allowed herself to be guided closer, her heart beating just a little faster in the milliseconds before his lips brushed against her's.
All too soon he pulled away, apologizing. She could still feel the ghost of his touch and a tingle from his kiss. The damage was already done, the invisible line had been crossed. At this moment she did not think it could be redrawn . . . she did not want it to be redrawn.
Before he could launch any further into an apology or take a step away and break the moment, she reached up and placed her own right hand on his cheek to draw his attention back down to her. She then swiftly stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his, lingering one second- two- three. She pulled back a hair's breadth, just far enough to let her hand drift from his cheek and up to his forehead where she indulged her earlier itch to fix that one rogue strand of hair. "There," she breathed "now we're even."
Jarin opened his mouth to explain himself, tell her that he had no idea where such a foolish idea to kiss her had risen from, but the gesture was returned only seconds later. Once more. The kiss was still only a few seconds long, but Dasha was okay with it. He held still while she fixed his ever messy hair - knowing it wouldn't take long for it to fall out of place again - and finally let out his own breath. Only a brief hesitation passed before Jarin's hands reached for Dasha's elbows to gently hold her still for just a moment.
"If we're going to be stuck around each other long term, we might as well make the most of it," he said with a faint lopsided grin.
"If we're going to be stuck around each other long term, we might as well make the most of it," he said with a faint lopsided grin.
Though it was faint Dasha found his crooked grin charming. The sight of it coaxed a soft smile onto her own lips, a gesture which felt a little foreign given how little use there was for it recently. "Sounds like a solid plan to me." There were two words that nagged at her though. long term. Highlights of her earlier conversation with Shiloh unsolicitedly arose to mind, making her question the near future. How much longer could their long term actually be as things currently stood? A week? Two? Another month or so at best. That felt frightfully short. She pushed that particular worry to the back of her mind, not giving it any more energy to ruin this moment. It would have it's time later- and there was a whole host of other matters to deal with before then.
". . . We should probably go check on Mattie. He's gotta be shaken up at least a little bit after everything." Between being captured, locked away, and then shot at, it had been a long last twenty four hours for the boy. Dasha glanced over in the direction she had last known Mattie to be in and spotted him some yards away- alone amongst the sparse sprigs of dried prarie grasses. She had grown so used to seeing boy and dog together that the sight immediately struck her as wrong, incomplete.
She recalled the last time she saw Rudy; bleeding, limping, and in overall very rough shape- but determined to set herself and Jarin on the right path to finding his boy. She worried her bottom lip, speculating the fate of the dog. She did not expect that Rudy would ever show up again, and didn't know how to tell Mattie such a thing.
((I completely forgot about little Rudy. I'm going on vacation starting tomorrow morning-ish so I'll have to reply to this one when I get back in a week probably...since it's a longer one))
((I honestly did too until midway through writing that last post, but it makes sense that they lost track of him/got separated in all that (at least that's what I'm telling myself, lol). Sounds good, thanks for letting me know. Have fun on your vacation! :) ))
