"The rain to the wind said,

You push and I'll pelt.

They so smote the garden bed

That the flowers actually knelt,

And lay lodged-though not dead.

I know how the flowers felt."

― Robert Frost

It had taken us almost a whole day to pack up camp, I had spent the majority of it moaning to Cripps about needing to downsize.

"We don't even sit at this table!" I said as we carried it from either end, shuffling ever so slowly towards the wagon.

"We ain't getting rid of it!" Cripps shouted back; his face twisted with strain. "You got more shirts than anyone I've ever seen, get rid of those instead!"

"My shirts fit in my trunk! It ain't even a close comparison!" I replied as we finally heaved the table into the back of the wagon, both of us panting a horse on a hot day. "Besides, I like my shirts."

"Well, I like the table."

"Sure..."

It went on like this for some time, arguing and bickering over what should stay and what should go, what should be loaded first and what should be loaded last, if I were driving the wagon or if he were. We had to stop for stress induced cigarettes every ten minutes just to prevent us from killing each other. Rooster had made things worse by pulling the wooden posts out of the back the moment we placed them there. I'd taken great joy in watching Cripps chase him.

"He is supposed to guard the camp, it's not supposed to be guarded from him!" Cripps had exclaimed.

"I'm just surprised you can still move like that, old man." I had responded.

When it was close to done, only a few items and the stew pot left to load, Cripps had put his hand on my shoulder and asked me to stop for a moment. Saying that he just wanted to sit here for another minute, watch the sunset turn the river pink for the last time.

"You can always come back down this way." I said

"Nah, it's not the same."

And it wasn't, he was right. I sat myself next to him and watched the sun set, saying a silent goodbye to the fields that had been our longest home yet.

After the sun was beyond the tree line, we used the last light of the day to finish loading the wagon. Cripps had hooked up Aine to the wagon alongside Grogan, which I had more than approved of. He was far too old to be baring the full load, and our wagon was remarkably fuller than our last move. She had whined at first, trying to bite him as he placed the harness over her head, but had since seemed to settle.

We lit the lanterns and set off, Rooster between us, into the cold night.

"So, you ain't been with Maggie Fike," Cripps said as we relaxed into our journey. "And you ain't come back with pelts so I know you ain't hunting. Nor money, so you ain't been collecting for that dancing woman. A day trip to town is taking you two days at least..."

"Are these questions?"

"Yeah. Where you been goin'?" he asked

"Didn't know I had a curfew." I scoffed, if I'm honest, I hadn't thought he'd noticed. I was always out doing something, although he was right that my empty-handed returns had been out of character.

"Come off it. It's fair to ask." he replied, chuckling.

"I made...a friend. I guess." I mumble. Was he a friend? I was certain he would say no to that.

"That fella who ran the wagon with you?"

"Yeah. That fella."

"Hmm." Cripps grunted, clearly unhappy. "And when you say 'friend' do you really mean-"

"I mean friend." I interrupted, keen to shut down his line of thought. "Barely even that."

"I just think I gotta right to know-"

"You thought wrong." I snap, turning away from him. I had nothing to be defensive about, and yet his prying made me feel as though I did. Arthur was more of an associate than anything else, but Cripps didn't need to know that.

"Look...I always expected you'd settle down, you know, get a bit of land or something. Just give me some warning, so I can figure out where to go..." he said, and my heart sank. He wasn't trying to pry for the sake of it, he was worried. He was worried I would run off and leave him with nowhere to go.

"And give up all this bickering?" I say, warmer this time. I lean past Rooster and nudge Cripps with my elbow affectionately. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

The ride was pretty easy, we took turns holding the reins while the other rested. Stopping every hour or so to give the horses a break and for us to smoke. Aine seemed to be doing very well, not at all being phased by the harness. While Grogan was obviously just grateful for the shared load. Cripps played his harmonica as we moved through the darkness, it must have done enough to scare off the wolves. The paths were windy and narrow, a few times I had to jump out of the wagon to direct Cripps through the trees. A few times we'd hit them anyway. No damage done, thankfully, only a mild argument. By the time we reached our new spot, the run was rising above the horizon, showering us in a yellow glow. We were both exhausted, but the work was not over. Not even close.

After unhooking the horses and taking a moment to moan and stretch, we got to work with the unload. Cripps passed the lighter items to me and I set them down, the heavier items were trickier. It was easier to push something onto the wagon than it was to lift it off. I was strong, but not strong enough to lift alone. Cripps was strong, but he was also old and running on no sleep. Everything took longer than it needed to, everything more complicated than it needed to be. I found myself wishing that Arthur was here to call on for help, his no nonsense demeanour would have had it done in an hour. While we were pushing on our fourth and no tent had been sent up.

Eventually the wagon was empty, and we got to setting up the tents, both facing them towards the cliff side. Both hoping for the opportunity to watch many a sunrise during our stay here.

"I can't." Cripps said as we approached the afternoon. "I can't do any more without coffee."

"Oh god, yes."

We stopped for too long, the coffee kept our minds active but our bodies remained fatigued. I had to pull Cripps back to his feet with the little energy I had left, he told me I needed to leave him be and to have more respect for my elders. The last few things were the worst, the stew pot needed to be set up, the fire needed to be lit, the god dammed table needed to be moved. We ploughed on into the afternoon, lifting and shifting with the all the grace of a wounded doe. When it was finally all done, when the fire was lit and the chairs were placed, Cripps had thrown me some canned salted offal and some beans, as well as some raw meat at Rooster. We'd sat in silence and stuffed as much as we could into our mouths and then we'd crawled into our respective tents, not to be seen or heard from again until the following morning.

Rooster made sure we were up in time, keeping true to his name. I'd slept a deep, dreamless sleep, which made the loud awakening even more startling. I heard Cripps swear loudly from across the camp, at least I wasn't suffering alone. I emerged from the sent to be met with the golden light of the morning sun, it was warm. Cripps was already staggering over to the coffee pot, mumbling about selling Rooster. I smiled and called for the dog, patting him on the head gently.

Good boy.

"I'll head out soon and get some meat for the pot," I yawn, stretching my arms out above my head. "Will stop in town on route and collect some other bits we need."

"Can't be without offal..." he replied sarcastically, holding out a fresh mug of coffee that I gladly accepted. He stood with me and watched as a train passed below us, nothing but green beyond it, lit up in the mornings sky.

"I think we will like it here." I say

"Yeah, I think we will." he agrees.

I left for Valentine not long after, taking some canned peaches for the trip. It was about the same distance as it had been from our last spot, unfortunately there was no closer store this time, but I'd get there and back well before sundown. Aine seemed pleased to be heading out, just the two of us. I think our adventures soothed her as much as they soothed me. I readied my bow as we approached the entrance of Cumberland Forest, knowing that there was plenty of meat to stew in there. Two rabbits and a turkey later, I was greeted with the familiar mud of the town.

The shopkeeper was unusually quiet as I entered, he didn't even try to show me his new stock. I frowned, shrugging it off as a bad day, and purchased some provisions. I grabbed some cheese for Cripps, he always wanted it but never asked. As I went to hand over the money, the shopkeeper placed his hand on my arm.

"I wouldn't hang around here, Miss." he whispered, I shook him off.

"What are you talking about?" I say, reaching to gather up my items

"Lot of new folk around here, lot of 'em. I got a bad feelin'."

I know who he meant; I know why he meant it. Valentine, the small cattle town on the edge of the heartlands, had become home to a band of dangerous and desperate criminals. It must have felt like an invasion.

"Thanks for telling me." I say, pretending that I wasn't all too aware. Pretending like I didn't know them. Pretending like I didn't like them.

As I left the shop, I spotted a familiar figure standing at the butcher's table, it was the tall man who'd held the rifle at me the other day. It took me a second to remember his name, Charles. I paused for a moment in the doorway of the store and looked out at him, he had caught a large stag and was negotiating a price. He sensed he was being watched and looked over at me. I smiled and tipped my hat in greeting, before quickly making my way to Aine and filling my saddle bags with provisions. I was about to climb into the saddle when I noticed Charles pass me by, leading his beautiful horse along behind him.

"Charles?" I called out, he stopped and looked over his shoulder to face me. "The butcher in Strawberry pays more."

"Thanks." he says after moments pause, and then continued on. I mount up and lean over to brush Aine's mane out of her eyes, before urging her into motion and setting off. I wanted to stop at Emerald Ranch on the way back and send off some letters to our frequent buyers and associates.

The ride was quick, Aine had a lot of energy to burn and I kept myself occupied with hunting, managing to grab a pronghorn who had been grazing along the Heartland Overflow and haul it up onto Aine's back. I didn't hang around for long once we got to the station, scribbling down our new local post office on creased paper and paying for the delivery to our most loyal and wealthy customers.

"Anything else?" the clerk asked as he stamped the letters, I bit my lip.

"Anything addressed to a Nora Kennedy?" I ask

"Hold on," he said, ducking down behind the counter and rummaging through a stack of letters, he paused on one. "Got one right here."

I reached out for it eagerly, I'd somewhat been hoping for one. It had been written in a delicate fountain pen, not what I'd expected.

Citadel Rock, 2 days from now, after the sun sets. - Kilgore.

"When was this delivered?" I ask, the clerk pursed his lips in thought.

"Someone dropped this lot by yesterday." he said, going back to what he was doing.

I smile to myself. See you tomorrow, Tacitus.