Arthur ran through the forest, his legs growing tired. Soon he arrived at the town of Rhodes. As he caught his breath, he overheard some deputies talking about going out of town to hunt down the Van Der Lind gang. The buck felt his heart break as he thought about the friends he knew.
Lenny... Mrs. Grimshaw, Mr. Pearson, Sadie...
Arthur swallowed his feelings away and pushed on, heading for the border of West Elizabeth.
...
It seemed like forever to get to the border, but Arthur finally arrived. He took a step in the knee-deep water, his golden fur becoming a cold, dark brown. When he reached the other side, he pulled himself out of the water and climbed the hill.
It's so... different, he thought. No bounty hunters or law in sight, hearing, or scent.
The open fields of the Great Plains made his deer instinct kick in and he bounded into the grass. He kicked his back legs in the air and pranced around. He never thought he'd be like this. The cock of a gun made him freeze in place. Arthur looked up to see a man point a rifle at him.
Another young man, 16 -or somewhere around that age- stopped behind him. The first man pulled the trigger on the gun and Arthur jumped to the side, dodging the bullet. The teenager got off his horse.
"Pa, it's gonna get away!" he shouted.
"Hold on, Jack," John answered.
The buck heard the name and his mood lit up immediately. It's Jack!
He strolled over to him and the young man took a step back. Why was this buck getting close to him?
Playfully, Arthur snatched John's hat (Arthur's old one) and ran off.
He dug at the ground with his hoof trying to say come play.
John and Jack both looked confused and somewhat frightened at the same time. Arthur dropped the hat and went to John's horse, trying to dig inside the saddlebag with his muzzle. He grabbed an old journal with his teeth and brought it to the two cowboys, flipping through the pages gently with his hoof. He found the page that he'd drawn a picture of Blackwater on, and showed it to them, hoping that a spark from the past would enter their minds.
"That's a picture that Arthur drew," John mumbled, scratching his chin and Arthur nodded enthusiastically.
Jack slowly approached the animal and held out his hand. "Uncle Arthur?"
In response, the golden buck pressed his muzzle into the boy's hand. John couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.
Arthur was dead, he was sure of it. But the buck's behavior told him that this was Arthur. The cowboy took a step toward the animal and Arthur gave a nod of his antlered head. John picked up his hat and journal, then he and his son got on their horses.
"Pa, can we take Arthur back with us? We haven't seen him in 8 years!" Jack explained as he looked at the deer behind him; Arthur stayed where he stood.
The former Outlaw put his hand to his chin, thinking. He couldn't say no to the buck, his brother. "Okay, he can stay."
Arthur's tail flicked up and he trotted after them, following them back to the farm.
I can't believe it. John let me stay!