Mudtown was a dirty settlement with its streets made of sloppy soil and manure. Its particular smell was caused by livestock that was brought in for sale from surrounding areas. The residents had a certain endearing roughness about them, and they were honest, hard workers. Relatively. Mostly cowboys and working girls, outlaws, and a few visionaries with dreams of a more vibrant, cultural urban life. Some locals still remember those good old days when the place was one of the wildest towns in the whole state of New Hanover. Even the wolves was scared of the place, was what Jon, a local hunter and drunkard, would yell in between his antagonizing and racist rants.
But since then, the town—which real name was Valentine—has calmed down. Like an elderly person who realized there was no point in acting like a buffoon anymore. The area had some decent stores and even a hotel, which gave the scenery a hint of civilization.
By midday, Birch arrived on horseback and took Stumpy to the stables. They were warmly welcomed: "It's been awhile, Birch."
"Mister Levi," the stranger, whose face was mostly hidden by a hat and scarf, nodded while handing the reins to the man. "How... Things?"
The bushy-mustached owner of the stable chuckled. "Nothing new, just things as they normally are. So, what do we need?"
"New shoes, brushing... The whole package."
Mister Levi accepted the money that was offered. "This is why you're my favorite, sir," he winked before taking the gelding away. Knowing that their horse was taken care of, Birch decided to get that bath next. Some passersby had given funny looks with their wrinkling noses.
The hotel owner, mister Dunn, smiled warily as he did not recognize the stranger in concealing clothes. He also tried hard not to shield his nose to avoid the stench. "Hello, er... Sir," he said uncertainly; "How may we help?"
"Bath. No disturbance."
"Right, that can be arranged." When mister Dunn reached out to take the coins, Birch closed their fingers around them. They emphasized, meeting the bewildered man's stare: "No disturbance. No one." The man took the money with hesitation once they were placed on the counter. "Y- Yes, of course. We already have a bath ready, sir. Down the hallway."
Birch entered the bathroom and pushed a chair up against the door, beneath the handle. Additionally, they ensured that the window was properly covered. Now certain of privacy, they removed their vest, shirt, pants, and other clothing. After spending so much time in the mountains, it felt nice to scrub away all the filth and grime.
After removing most of the dirt with a wet rag, they finally sank into the bathtub. They groaned at the sensation of hot, soapy water on their strained body. Stretching their legs, rolling their shoulders and straining their neck they tried opening some of the knots. Wondering how long they could stay in the water before someone would start knocking on the door.
While untangling their long hair, Birch noticed their reflection in a mirror on a nearby table. They chortled when they saw the gunshot wounds on their face. The left upper cheek had a wide cut across it, and part of the ear rim was gone. The Trapper was right: they didn't seem much stranger than they already were.
Birch cast their gaze down at their body, but most of it was under murky water. So instead, their attention was drawn to their tattooed arms. At their peculiar skin tone.
"Dirty pig, dirty pig!"
"Only bad people and Satan's minions walk around in filth!"
"You can't come in. Scrub yourself thoroughly clean first!"
Dirty pig.
DIRTY PIG.
DIRTY PIG!
As though soap and water might erase their... Deformity, Birch wiped their arm. When that failed, they threw a bar of soap at the mirror, causing it to fell on the table. Birch plunged themselves into the water after a deep breath.
Charles crouched patiently behind one of the town's buildings. He was holding a piece of raw meat with his arm outstretched.
"It's okay," he softly murmured and avoided looking at a dog in front of him. Instead, he focused on the animal's front paws, which took another stride towards him. He let go of the piece after feeling a tug and watched. The treat vanished into hungry maw and the collie looked for more. Charles smiled and extended his hand, letting the dog sniff and lick his fingers. He attempted to pet and was allowed to, stroking the collie's forehead as also cheeks. Getting all this attention the fluffy tail to wag happily.
"Yeah, here? That's a good scratch, isn't it?" the dark skinned man softly said and offered more scratching and petting. "Good dog."
The animal followed him for a little while before heading off. Now that he was done with his tasks and had made his way to the main street, Charles could either go back to the Horseshoe overlook or just relax. He didn't want to go to the tavern by himself after what he, Arthur, Javier, and Bill had done there the previous time, and he assumed he wouldn't be welcomed either. Guess it was back to the camp then.
Taima waited for him at the stables as the mare was getting new shoes. Upon arriving there, he noticed a draft horse that was being brushed. The steed appeared to be familiar with its black-and-white coat and Charles halted on his tracks to look at it.
He could be mistaken. He was so busy trying to keep Arthur from freezing that he didn't get a good look at the horse back in the mountains.
However, the resemblance of that lengthy black-and-white face was too great to be random.
"It won't trouble you?" They had already made camp in their usual spot and wanted to politely decline the offer, but they were unsure of how to go about it.
"Of course not! Like I said, you're always welcome to stay as our guest." Behind his mustache, mister Downes smiled reassuringly. A local farmer and charity fundraiser, he was a slim but generous man. His friendly manner wavered as he attempted to suppress a coughing fit and turned away momentarily. The stranger frowned with concern.
As soon as the coughing stopped, the man turned back to face them.
"Truly, krhm, you should, miss. It will make Edith and Archie very happy to see you."
Feeling both pressure from oneself and pity for the man, Birch gave in: "Sure, I'll come." They parted ways for the time being, and Birch waved to the man till not seeing the other among other people.
They dropped their hand, tired on the inside. Imagining themselves seated at the dinner table, compelled to strike up a conversation, and perhaps even pressured to have their face bare. The stranger was genuinely anxious. Though they were fond of the family, they hadn't been emotionally ready to accept an unexpected invitation. "Damnit..." They'll stay just for one night and then make an excuse to leave.
Birch crouched and whistled at the sight of a herding dog. The collie came over right away and allowed to be patted after obtaining a treat. Stroking the dog's fur, Birch whispered to it: "You wouldn't go instead of me, hm? Mrs. Downes does good bread with berries."
The dog sniffed at the person's hanging side braid and blinked. Birch giggled. "Yeah, don't think that would work either. Thanks though."
But there was no need to be so glum; there were still hours to spend before heading to the Downes. There will be plenty of time to mentally prepare and collect strength. Maybe hunt something for the missus to cook? Seemed like a good idea.
Upon returning to the stables, Birch noticed that Stumpy was ready and waiting. "Hey, handsome boy," they said, pressing their forehead against the nickering animal.
"He behaved well," mister Levi said, adjusting his belt. "Tried biting only once my new help."
"What happened?"
"Not the horse's fault," said the man. "The idiot was too ruff with the mane."
"Huh," Birch patted the old boy, who appeared to be completely unashamed. "Nicely done, Stumpy."
The horse chortled.
Someone was following Birch as they left the town. Perhaps it was just another traveler heading in the same direction. However, Birch had seen the dark-skinned man show up, get on his horse, and ride out when they did. Before making a possible fool of themselves, Birch decided to put their suspicion to the test.
"Hey, wait!" Charles shouted when the stranger bolted off the main road. His intention had been to trail along for a bit, then call for them and question them. Instead he was now chasing them, down to the canyon. "I just want to ask something!"
The rider surprised him by turning on their saddle and facing him. Their steed was galloping freely along the path. "Ask!" the stranger yelled.
"...Where you in the mountains, by the lake?"
He didn't get an answer—not a verbal one—as the stranger turned back on their saddle and kept on running away. Taima, from a breed more suited for speed, followed along with ease and was drawing nearer by every minute. "I don't mean harm," Charles tried to tell the other when he was almost by their side. The stranger made quick turn to aside with their horse, to a plateau which seemed like a dead-end. However, instead of stopping the stranger rode towards the cliff and Charles got frightened.
"Wait! No, don-"
He discovered a goat path after he got there, which the stranger's horse expertly followed. He took the longer way down so as not to endanger his or Taima's lives.
Once down at the canyon, he saw the stranger already on the other side and riding up a hill towards a forest. He could either let them go for now or carry on chasing after them.
After Birch entered the forest, they leaped from Stumpy's back onto a hanging branch. They climbed quickly until they were hidden and waited for a moment. What was the man doing here? And why did he want to talk? Although he had stated that his intentions were good, Birch didn't believe him. The men had pursued them after all, and one of them had nearly killed Birch. If he was here, did mean the rest of his group was also? At least it would mean they managed to get down from the mountains. Hopefully the child too...
The idea of spending the night at the Downes was no longer so unappealing.
Hearing neither the galloping horse nor the man, Birch decided to call Stumpy back. Making a sound of a bird, they waited till hearing the horse coming under the tree. Birch began to descend, gracefully lowering themselves to the lower branches. Until one snapped under their weight. "Shit!" They started tumbling down, grasping to break their fall. The way they crashed onto the ground was odd.
As in, there was little pain and the ground embraced them. Realizing someone had caught them, Birch went rigid and stared up to the man who was holding them in his arms. So much for getting away. This was just embarrassing. Maybe they should let the man kill them, seemed preferable at the moment. He was pretty by the way.
When attempting to follow the suspicious bird sound, Charles did not expect to find the stranger or even catch them. Not like this. This was a weird situation. By the other's reaction it seemed the feeling was mutual, as they stared at each other.
The stranger's eyes were vibrant green, Charles thought, like moss on tree bark after a rainstorm.
The man's bright eyes reminded Birch of the deserts of New Austin, the way the light of dawn paints the hills in fiery hues.
Swallowing Birch managed to find their voice, however small it was: "Wrong horse?"
Charles nodded.
"Let's forget this ever happened?"
Again, he just nodded. And with the stranger's courage to speak, he found will to let the other one down. Standing on the ground now, Birch glanced to Stumpy who made questioning sound a few meters away. The amount of betrayal Birch was feeling was indescribable as they glared at the gelding. Where were you? Well no matter whose to blame, time to pail! The stranger picked up their fallen hat and went to their horse.
"Wellthankyoubye!"
"He- Hold on!"
"No hablo inglés!"
"I just wanna talk."
The tone Charles used caused the stranger to halt. Turning to face the man, Birch thought it might be best to deal with this now. If it was just talking the other one wanted.
"Okay, let's talk."
The issue was that, flustered, Charles had no idea what to ask or say anymore. Are you okay? You're from the mountains, right? What's your name? Thank you for helping us?
Not knowing the other's personality, all Birch saw was a man who appeared angry and was simply glaring at them.
