Chapter 6 – Stampede

Oh my gosh, it's been so long since I last uploaded anything!

Entirely my fault – sorry!

Anyway, this chapter is new, too; wow I can't believe how far this story is diverging from what I had originally written – this is crazy! I can't tell if it's a good thing that it's so different. But I guess I'll have to wait and see. So I added the previous chapter because I was reading through the original story and I was like "Sheesh, is Marcus human or what? He's been shot in his foot, lain out in the plains for hours and is fine. Clearly, he is not bothered by blood loss. Okay, you know what? That is not going to work."

…

And so that is what brought about the following change.

Marcus remained unconscious while Dalton carried him, desperate to find a doctor. But what are the odds of finding one just wondering out on the plains, anyway? Dalton had no idea where the nearest town was or where he should head. But he didn't like the idea of aimlessly wondering about while his companion's health deteriorated. But how was Dalton supposed to help Marcus? He wasn't a doctor, but he knew that Marcus would have lost a lot of blood by now; what was his blood type? It hadn't been long since he had passed out, but Dalton knew he didn't have much time left – he wouldn't leave Marcus' life to chance.

It was then that Dalton felt himself being watched. He paused and surveyed his surroundings.

There wasn't much to be seen except for the tall grass that swayed noiselessly in the gentle breeze. But there was something amiss. He glanced about, on edge. He heard crickets in the grass, their chirps joined up to make a low hum that surrounded him like a shroud.

And then the chirps stopped.

Dalton dodged to a side as a wolf suddenly pounced at him, its jaws snapped shut on mid-air instead of his leg. Now he was aware of the wolf pack that was circling him. He turned his head, snorted defiantly and some of the wolves took a few steps back. They thought he was just a normal bison… He could have tolerated them attacking him had he been alone, but now that he was with Marcus, he couldn't risk any more delays.

So he stood up, transforming from his full-beast form into his hybrid form. Some of the wolves drew back, baring their teeth in confusion. What was this strange not-bison before them? Was what they asked each other. The wolf pack growled at him, seemingly weighing up their options. Attack him or leave…?

In one hand, Dalton held the limp body of Marcus and slowly he reached up with his free hand to unsheath his weapon. The metal hissed slightly against the sheath as it was withdrawn and it was then that the wolves attacked.

They lunged forwards, snapping at him and Dalton merely moved aside to leave behind an after-image. Several wolves fell through it with yelps of surprise. One saw him, though and lunged at him. Before it could sink its teeth into his calf, though, Dalton smacked its snout aside with the handle of his weapon. It tumbled aside with a pained whimper but another took its place, trying to find an opening in his guard. Dalton happened to catch the noise of something behind him and he only just ducked out of the way as a wolf pounced at him – and missed.

Dalton knew that the wolves wanted him to run so they could chase him down. On the other hand, if he stayed put and tried to fight off all twenty or so of them, it would delay his search for a doctor which – in turn – would further endanger Marcus.

And Dalton couldn't have that.

So he shifted back into a bison, hastily swinging Marcus onto his back in the process, and ran. The wolves weren't put off in the slightest; if anything, they were elated at the prospect of a chase. And so they gave chase.

From the top of a nearby hill, a man mounted on a horse watched the events unfold below him. His horse had brown paint-like splashes on his otherwise white coat. The man sitting atop the horse appeared to be riding bareback as there was no saddle on the horse's back. He had seen wolves hunting bison before, and he had seen bison run from a wolf pack.

But never before had he seen a man turn into a bison. Or even seen a man – albeit, an unconscious man – ride a bison. It was all rather strange. One could almost say it was funny. But not him; he didn't think it was funny. He simply frowned to himself and looked on thoughtfully.

"Very well," he said, deciding what he would do, "I think it's time to send something more his way."

His horse merely nickered at his words before reaching down to start munching away at some grass, not minding the grey fox that appeared and sat down beside its feet. The man reached into a pouch hanging by his side and withdrew from it a small wooden figurine of a bison. As he looked at it, the wood it was made of suddenly seemed to shiver and then the small carving turned its head to look up at him expectantly.

"Go," was all he said.

The wolves were still giving chase, panting as they attempted to run him down. Dalton had to hand it to them – they were persistent. But then something made him look over his shoulder. The wolves – they were slowing down… Why?

And then he felt it too; the ground was trembling.

The tremor made Dalton, too, come to a gradual halt. What was it that was making the ground shake so much? An earthquake, perhaps? But then… then, he saw it. It was composed of several thousands of running individuals, yet they moved as if they were one single, huge entity. It was a herd; a herd of stampeding bison.

And they were running straight towards Dalton. At the front of the herd, Dalton recognized the leader – the same bull bison he had seen earlier that day. What was happening?

The wolves that had been chasing him had already turned tail and fled, desperate to get away from thousands-strong herd. Dalton had little option but to turn and try going in another direction. That was how he found himself returning the way he had come, almost beside himself with worry for Marcus. All of the ground he'd covered; all of the progress he'd made – all for nothing. Even over the thunder of thousands of hoofbeats, though, he heard a noise. A noise that seemed out of place out here, on the plains, in the middle of a stampede. The noise he heard was a scream – a scream for help.

There was someone else out here.

But who in their right mind would be out here at such a time?

Dalton gritted his teeth in frustration. Now? Why was there a person in trouble now of all the times? It would go against everything that Dalton believed in to leave behind a person in such obvious trouble. Straining his ears, he could just hear the person's voice over the din;

"Help! Somebody help meee!"

He groaned. Helping this person could very much endanger Marcus – but he couldn't let another person be trampled to death when he was so close to where they were.

So Dalton veered off from ahead of the herd and ran to where he heard the voice coming from, hoping that he would not regret his actions. And as he ran, he reached the edge of the herd and was relieved to see open ground and not just rows upon rows of bison jostling for room. He slowed down and saw the very same wolf pack that had been chasing him not too long ago. Clearly these dogs just didn't know when to quit. He almost groaned at the sight of it.

He put Marcus down, deciding to get this over with quickly – he had no time to waste. Stepping forward he transformed into his hybrid form and unsheathed his weapon. Bracing himself, he sped forwards, leaving behind an after-image and spun his blade. The edge sliced – though not very deeply – into the wolves' sides and feet.

"Fiddle Banff!" Dalton exclaimed as he executed the move.

Around him, wolves yelped in pain as shallow slices opened up on them and began to ooze blood. This time, though, this time, they got the message and finally turned tail and fled without a backwards glance. Dalton breathed a sigh of relief before turning to the collapsed figure that lay in the grass before him – the very same man who had been calling for help.

"Are you …?"

But then, Dalton saw him. And the words died on his lips as he felt a shiver of fear and recognition run through his body as he stared down in horror at the individual he had just saved.

It… it couldn't be…

But it was.

And so that brings Chapter 6 to a close!

So who could this person be? Clearly, it's someone from the One Piece world, but can anyone guess who it is?

Oh, one more thing – I know that the move I've mentioned above (Fiddle Banff) is called "Fiddle Bam" in the VIZ manga and the dub, but I like the idea that the word "Banff" refers to the Banff National Park in Canada where Plains Bison were reintroduced in 2017.

I read this on Fandom.