Chapter 3 – Which Way?

Just so you know, I do not own One Piece or its characters. All I own are my characters which is completely different… I probably should have mentioned this in the first chapter, shouldn't I?

And before I forget, a big thank you to Kenpachi Zoro and TheGamingReader for this story's first two favourites and follows!

The man collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Dalton looked at him before sighing. Just his luck. He crouched down and noticed the man's rifle and a water bottle. He picked it up and shook it slightly; there was water in it. Could he use it to wake up the man…? Before he did, though, he lightly smacked the side of the man's head and tried to wake him up that way. All that happened was that the man groaned. Dalton then unscrewed the lid of the bottle and poured some water onto the man's face.

This time he did wake up and spluttered, blinking furiously.

"Wha-?"

"Which way to the nearest town?" Dalton asked.

"Town… South…" He slurred and then passed out again.

Dalton shook his head but looked south with a frown. He turned back to the man who was just lying there amidst the grass. A deal was a deal, Dalton thought. And now it was time for him to uphold his end of the bargain.

"If only you had been shot somewhere other than your leg." Dalton said.

Dalton then picked up the man as he shifted back into his beast form and managed to sit the man on his back after adjusting his sheath and its strap. He then took off at a slow walk, headed south through the plains.

Marcus came to groggily, his surroundings swimming into view. It took him a moment to register that it was night. A couple minutes was what it took for him to register the slight bounce of whatever he was sitting on. Oh, that's it. Marcus smiled to himself; he'd fallen asleep on Crae, in the saddle, and she was now making her way back home with him. And that was a good thing, too, because Marcus was dead tired – he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Yeah, that's it, Crae," he said blearily, "soon as we're home, I'll give you a good dinner…"

And absently, he patted her shoulder. Then he stopped as his memories returned and the rest of his brain woke up. Her shoulder…? Oh no; he was patting a hump. A bison's hump.

"I'm not a horse." Said the bison-man.

"Oh… okay…" Marcus nodded slowly, trying to stay calm.

"And my name is Dalton – not Crae," there was a slight pause. "I'm not… from here."

"Sure… Sure thing, Dalton." Marcus swallowed nervously.

The bison-man – Dalton – stopped walking and Marcus heard him sigh.

"Do you think you can get off on your own?" Dalton asked.

"… Yeah." Marcus confirmed.

He then let himself slide off and sprawl on the grass. A zing of pain lanced through the left side of his body, making him jerk involuntarily.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed.

"Are you alright?" Dalton asked, his voice concerned.

"I'm fine!" Marcus grunted in response.

Looking back up, Marcus was surprised to find that the bison-man was… well, a man again. Dalton seated himself on the grass near Marcus and looked up at the sky. It was well past the middle of the night by now, he reckoned.

"So," Dalton began, "I didn't get your name; you are…?"

"Uh… oh, right – I'm Andrew Marcus… But you can call me Marcus; everyone else does." He shrugged.

"Alright, Marcus, it's good to be properly introduced." Dalton nodded.

"Um, likewise…"

Dalton turned to look up at the sky after the two of them were done talking. The heavens shone softly from the light of many stars, the crescent moon above offered little light, though, to see by. From somewhere far in the distance, Marcus heard the roar of mountain lion. Perhaps it'd just had a kill.

"You'd better get some sleep, Marcus." Dalton eventually said, "You need it."

"And what are you gonna do?" Marcus frowned, feeling self-conscious of his gunshot wound.

"I'll keep watch," he responded, "and stay guard."

"What, against the cougars?" He laughed. "You may have some crazy powers but even bison get killed by these cats."

Dalton merely gave Marcus a knowing smile.

"Not this bison," his voice had a hint of amusement in it.

"Suit yerself." Marcus grumbled and lay down.

A bit later – maybe it was half an hour – Dalton stood up. Marcus was still awake, but it seemed the bison-man hadn't noticed. The dim light glinted off something on his upper arms. Was that metal? Only now was Marcus actually getting the opportunity to see his companion.

He was tall. Much taller than the average person, Marcus realized. He was broad-shouldered and well-built. He had a square-looking jaw and slicked-back black hair as well as a goatee. He wore what looked like a long, white fur-lined green tunic and had what looked like armour plating on his upper arms. The belt he wore was red and had two pale yellow cords hanging from the side. The man also wore boots underneath his tunic. As he stood, he unlooped the leather strap that was attached to the sheathed object on his back. Looking at his attire, Marcus felt a twinge of unease; only someone well-off could afford as high-quality clothes as Dalton did. And Marcus was certain he was no petty thief or cattle rustler.

So in that case, just who was he?

"Still awake, Marcus?" Dalton's voice sounded amused.

"Damn right," Marcus grunted as he sat up. Where was the point in pretending to be asleep, after all? "Still awake and wondering what the hell you are."

"I'm human." He said it like it was obvious. "Same as you."

"No you ain't. Humans can't and don't turn inta bison." Marcus hadn't meant his statement to sound so accusing.

"… Fair enough." Dalton admitted.

He settled into a crouch ahead of Marcus, the handle of the sheathed object held loosely in his right hand.

"I am a person like you, Marcus." Dalton began, "The reason I can transform into a bison is because – a long time ago – I ate an enchanted fruit."

"… You expect me to believe that?" Marcus arched an eyebrow.

"Believe what you want; but the truth is, I ate a devil fruit and that is what gave me my powers." Dalton shrugged.

There was silence between the two of them. The only noise to be heard was the chirping of the crickets in the gently rustling grass. Marcus spoke up just then;

"Say… What's a devil fruit?"