The sun was dipping down over the horizon in Spain, the beauty of such a sunset went unseen by most eyes; the crimson which bled into the orange, yellow, greens that even mocked the ocean were all present in the sky. It was like an explosion of all the love, pain, happiness and sorrow within the sky. All the colors harmoniously combined to creature the perfect picture. However, the azure eyes that belonged to the raveonette known only as Tulio, was just as deaf to the beauty painted before him as the rest of the crowd. He was counting the minutes until the light would evaporate entirely. And then, only then would be at ease. Once all the colors bled from the sky would he be able to smile contentedly. Content? He snorted at his own thoughts; he would be content when he was no longer a wanted criminal in his own land. Surely yes, he was a thief, a conman, a vagrant, but he was no criminal. He had never committed crimes of treason against the crown, villainy against humanity? Hardly. In all honesty, the raveonette was lucky if he could get away with cruelty to Miguel. Humanity? There wasn't a chance. He may have been greedy, but that didn't make him evil, per se.
As the last of the bright colors faded into a majestic purple and night blue, the man turned away from the sun set, trotting down the hill he had been watching the receding light upon. The soles of his shoes slapped against the ground quietly; he had to be inconspicuous. In the growing darkness, his tanned skin dulled in the lessening light. Pretty soon, it would be safe for him and his partner to move about freely across the land. If there was such a possibility anymore. He felt so low, having to creep about in the darkness; he felt like the criminal they were trying to make of him. He'd done nothing wrong, played a few people for fools over his life time, took advantage of those not smart enough to catch his game. But, it wasn't enough to spend his life in condemnation in the night.
At the bottom of the hill, there was a cross road, along the raven haired man ran his hand along his locks, all pulled back with a small purple ribbon. Sighing, his eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark. Looking for passing people, he kept to the side of the road, hoping to keep out of sight. It wouldn't do much good to have a carriage of some of Spain's finest guard catching him, especially when he hadn't done anything but watch for the sun to go down. Darting down a small and mostly unused turn in the road, there was a small building, mostly rundown. Probably used to be an old inn, or, at least that's what Tulio had assumed when they had even found a few beds within the helm of the walls. When the two of them, himself and Miguel had stumbled upon it, it was obvious no one had been using it for a few years, and thus, it was perfect as a temporary hideout. Even better, it had a small stable, where Altivo had his current home built within. It would suffice at least, until their pursuers caught up on their trail, which, Tulio had no doubt that they would end up doing.
Reaching the door, his hand slid along the frame as he entered; his head ducked to avoid the low hanging at the entrance. The rest of the building was fine, it was just that one bit by the door, for the first six times, the raveonette had forgotten completely about it and every single time, managed to collide forehead into wood hanging. Sighing as he entered, his cerulean eyes searched the first room for his partner and fellow convict. Although, the small building itself was already cozy with two men and a horse, it still felt somehow...empty. Shaking his head, Tulio reached up, massaging one temple with two fingers. He had to stop thinking of ghosts in his life. Or, correction. Ghost. Singular.
Chel.
He hated the fact that her tanned skin and silky hair still haunted some of his thoughts; yes, she had run away with another man, yes, it had been over a year ago, but, Tulio just couldn't let her go just like that. He couldn't just let the woman who had infected every cavern of his mind go with only the knowledge that she would prefer some other man over his own personal company. He even remembered the exact words that she had left him with. "Don't look at me like that, Tulio, darling. We had always agreed that it was just business. And that's what this is: just business. You shouldn't have let it get personal." The words were so cold and unfeeling. How was he not supposed to let it get personal when the woman had slipped her words of sweet nothings in his ears? The hot breath against his skin, the promises for adventure and togetherness. They were just one lie. A con. They were the perfect con. She had wanted to get out of El Dorado, she had never wanted him, just out of her heaven-like prison.
Feeling a small tug at his heartstrings, the man shoved all thoughts way of the mocha skinned temptress from his mind. He had more important things to worry about then what could have been, or what, in reality, was never there. Treading further into the small hideaway, the man called out to his partner, his voice barely raising over a normal speaking volume. "Miguel?" he had told the blond not to go anywhere, that he would check the coast, and he would make sure that the light had dimmed enough for the two of them to slip unknown into the nearby town. They needed supplies. Badly. They needed food, for the both of them, for Altivo. He would make sure to take care of those two, if nothing else. Even though the horse and him were still rivals, in a sense, without Miguel and his 'noble' steed, what would Tulio be left with then?
Nothing.
Without waiting for a reply, the lithe man slid into the main room, where they had set up a small area, just a table a few makeshift chairs. It was painfully simple, really. Dropping himself onto a stack of boxes, Tulio let his eyes wander, he'd looked over this room a thousand times, and he still wasn't sure what he was looking for within it. Shifting with discomfort, the man stood, straightened his clothing, and set himself down again, this time on the edge of a nearby barrel that they had stolen from the loading docks of the Spanish fleets. At the time, they weren't sure what it was filled with, except for the fact that it was food. And now that it was depleted of it's original purpose, it had become just a chair for the raveonette. He supposed it was better than it having no use at all. Hm, perhaps sometime he'd have to switch positions with the barrel and see if he felt anymore fulfilled in having a purpose like the shaped wood, than he did being a so called roughian who lived outside of the law. Lord, there was absolutely no way of even explaining out far below the standard of 'God' this was.