THE PLAINS

A/N – so just to let you know, I actually wrote all of this in a book before typing it out. Right, so, on with the story!

Chapter 1 – Wandering

Dalton didn't know where he was.

He didn't even know how he had gotten where he was.

All he did know was that he was surrounded by miles and miles of open, rolling plains. When he'd woken up, it had been the middle of the afternoon. The sun had been blazing overhead and he had been lying in the dip of a hill. He had gotten to his feet and looked around around, trying to get his bearings. After a while, though, he had turned and headed East, hoping to find civilization. He walked. And he walked… And he walked.

Eventually, he'd removed his jacket in the sweltering heat and tucked it behind the sheath of his weapon before shifting into a bison to cover more ground and resumed his long walk. More by chance than anything else, Dalton happened upon a large herd of bison. Regular bison. Most of them looked at him with open curiosity; a nosy calf even tried to approach him before being called back by his mother. An old bull bison regarded him with detachment, but the message he conveyed was clear: Stay away from my herd. Dalton had complied. After all, there was no need for any unnecessary fighting. He kept walking until the sun began to set behind him.

He looked up with a snort and was about to shift back when a noise made him pause. Turning, he saw people fast approaching on horseback and with guns, either in their hands or slung over their backs. As he watched them, one of the eleven men spotted him and gave a shout.

"There's one!" he shouted.

"C'mon, boys!" another ordered. "Let's kill this thing!"

Not good, Dalton realized as they all wheeled their horses around to approach him. All the men were armed with guns and they outnumbered him. But even so, Dalton wasn't too worried; he'd faced worse.

They encircled him, their horses whinnying and kicking up clods of earth as they stamped the ground.

"Whoo! Dinner's gonna be good tonigh'!" One man whooped.

And then – unexpectedly – one of the men threw a lasso at him, attempting to snare his head. With a snort Dalton jerked his head aside, only for another lasso to tighten around his left horn and try to pull his head aside. Eyes narrowing, Dalton instead yanked hard enough on the rope that he pulled the man right out of his saddle. The man cried out in surprise as he smacked into the ground and was then dragged a few more feet as Dalton side-stepped a few more ropes.

"Somebody stop this thiiing!" he wailed from the ground.

"Quit yer wailin'!" barked one of the men in irritation.

"Hey! Is it just me or is this bison wearin' clothes?" asked one in confusion.

"…"

"Holy -! It is!"

Dalton then decided it was time for this nonsense to stop. So he stood up, his bison features diminishing until they had altogether disappeared and he was back to looking – and being – human again. He raised his hands, showing they were empty, even as the men let out exclamations of terror and their horses shied away from him.

"What the hell?!"

"Please put down your guns," Dalton said, "there's no need for anyone to get hurt."

"… What're you guys waitin' for? Kill 'im! Kill the monster!"

Is this how Chopper felt? Dalton wondered with a sigh.

The men brought their guns around to face him and Dalton frowned. So much for a peaceful approach, then. He shifted into his hybrid form but still didn't withdraw his weapon from its sheath. He had no intention of killing these men. Then they were shooting at him and Dalton blurred into action, leaving behind him an afterimage that was shot through a few times.

"It… It won't die!" one exclaimed.

As that afterimage began to fade away, Dalton reappeared to snatch the same man's gun out of his hands and hit him over the head with it. A few of the other men screamed at his sudden appearance. Of the eleven men present, the Zoan eater was able to hit five the same way while the sixth fell off his horse in shock. But they got the message, though, and left.

It was only when they had that Dalton realized he hadn't thought of asking them where he was.

He sighed heavily and slowly resumed his trek. Dalton glanced up at the darkening sky. Best if he kept moving, then, he reckoned wearily.