Cerulean eyes peered out over the canyon that framed a desert. A large, red, handkerchief covered the rider's face and protected it from burn and sand. A silver badge flashed in the intense sun while a restless, black horse pranced nervously beneath his rider. A gun was strapped to either of the man's sides, while a large hat blocked the sun from his vision. The leather chaps that lined the man's muscular legs flapped slightly in the hot breeze that blew through, and the echo of silence filled the air, while vultures circled off in the distance, waiting for a fresh meal.

Sherriff Alfred F Jones sighed, packing away the small seeing glass he had been peering through. "No sign of 'em boy. We'll have ta keep watch until mornin' again." The southern accent shone through strongly as he leaned down, patting the large horse's neck, who snorted in response and backed away from the edge of the great cliff in front of his hooves.

Alfred sighed again before turning the great creature around with a pull of the reigns. But he chanced a look up at the setting sun again before trotting off, humming a tune along to the words that ran through his head.

Yippie yi Ohhhhh ~

Yippie yi yaaaaay

He looked up again.

Ghost Riders in the sky~

Arthur groaned heavily as the boat sloshed once again in the deep blue of the sea. He was lying flat on his back, atop a pile of crates and fishnet, whilst fishermen and sailors scurried about him in preparation for docking. He loathed the sounds they made as the boat rocked, but at the same time, those sounds meant that they were almost to their destination: Philadelphia.

It had been a long trip, and Arthur had even begun to wonder if it was worth it. And he still had a long way to go. He was to land at Delaware, and then get a carriage to take him to the next town over, where he would be picked up and escorted to a place called Nashville, Tennessee by the Sherriff of the said town, by train of course.

Of course, Arthur didn't really know much about America and its ways, only that it was dusty, dirty and needed a lot of help in the medical area. That's where he came in. The doctor was well trained and had finally found opportunity to put that practice to good use.

The doctor sat up and took out a small notebook, pulling a piece of charcoal from his coat pocket as he did so. He opened to a blank page and began to write.

June 15th, 1846

We are about to port at Delaware within the hour. I am quite anxious to land, for I am weary of the sea and constant tales of spirits by the crews men. Of course I know they are real, and I suppose that is all the worse for me to keep in mind. I do not wish for a siren to come and take our souls or whatnot while the men drink and make merry- as they put it- that frog had better be grateful when I arrive in Tennessee. I will be quite cross by the time I arrive there if the trip keeps going at this rate. And I can only hope that the Sherriff will not be as rude and uncouth as the sailors upon this ship.

Arthur Kirkland

The blonde man sighed and tucked the small book away, noticing one of the young cabin boys watching him from another pile of crates.

"Best watch who you stare at lad, your eyes may burn from your sockets." He said jokingly, remembering the way his brothers had said that all of the time growing up.

The young child blinked a few times, a scowl emanating from his brow and downturned lips. "Well that's a stupid rule." He said, leaning forward and resting his head in his palms. "Why would my eyes burn out of my head if I stare?"

Arthur thought about it a moment, debating on whether he should joke about the sailors silly stories about spirits and whatnot. "Well that is a good question, isn't it?" he finally settled with. "What's your name?"

"What kind of business is it of yours?" The boy said, sitting up straight again, standing as if to leave. But he was cut off as the captain of the ship suddenly appeared.

"Oi! Lovi! What are you doing up there? Go down and help your brother prepare for port!" He called. But the boy just huffed angrily, muttering something in another language. "Lovi! Listen to me-si?"

"I told you not to call me that, stupid!" He groaned angrily as the captain pulled him down from on top of the crates and set him on his feet so he could stand on the solid (or at least as solid as it got on the sea) ground.

"Do as you're told and I won't!" Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo said with a sigh, watching him stalk off.

What an unruly child. Arthur thought. "Sorry about him… I just don't know how else to get him to do anything." The captain said. "Are you feeling any better?" Arthur wondered at the man's sort of split personality. He had noticed that around the men and crew, the captain was a ruthless man, none too quick to use his whip to lash them into sense. But around that boy, he was an almost fatherly man. Strange.

"Ah- yes. I am… thank you." Arthur said with a small frown.

"It's just a matter of getting your sea legs under you!" the man laughed. Arthur faked a smile as well, hoping the man would leave soon. He- for some reason- didn't much feel too comfortable around him. Something about the man's aura seemed off. He wasn't positive exactly what it was, but he wasn't going to try and find out either.

"Well you just sit back and we should be landing any moment now." Antonio said, reaching into his pocket and looking at the compass he pulled out.

"Thank you." Arthur said again as the captain left, coat swishing behind him as he walked and leather boots thumping powerfully and steadily upon the moving wood beneath him. Arthur respected the man, yes, but he still didn't like him.

Hello All! Thank you for reading!

I've wanted to do this story for SOOOOOOO long. I just haven't had the time till now! Enjoy and please tell me what you think so far!