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Along with The Storm (Amortentia x The Lone Ranger)

Joined
Mar 4, 2023
Lightning webbed across the skies like a great claw splitting through dark clouds above. Thunder's trademark roar rose from the silence and ended with a whiplike crack as the wind swelled, rain falling diagonally in heavy sheets by this point in the night. The massive squall had come rumbling in the north and washed over the prairie violently—little warning foreshadowing the coming of the black billowing clouds which swallowed up the night sky. While most might curse the coming storm, it was a godsend to the lone rider who braved the miserable weather.

His spurs fell hard against the horse beneath his sides. Silent prayers of encouragement to try and nudge out the slightest bits of energy that the poor creature had left. Its pace slowed, and for that Jake Belmont could not fault the animal. Fingers tightly grasped the reigns as his free hand gripped his hat's crown. It was the only thing keeping the rain from his eyes. Yet even now he could feel his strength wane. Energy left Jake rapidly as he tried to battle the winds to stay in the saddle—the knife wound in his side offering sharp stinging pain that darted throughout his nervous system.

Finally, beneath him, the poor beast of burden gave way. The effect was like a car crash in short order as the rider was flung from the saddle with great violence. Jake's shoulder plowed into the uneven ground as he cried out. Pain lanced him as he tumbled across rock and grass. He supposed he was lucky; he had avoided the cactus five meters to his right. Mud and blood caked him as he rose to his feet. A worrying pain from his left shoulder seemed to give him pause as he took a knee.

The man took an intense breath as he would force the arm back into its socket. It took everything he could to prevent from screaming as he would let out a panting grumble. His eyes glanced at the brave horse that had brought him so far. The beast lay on the ground, fading fast from this world even as the rain got worse around him. Jake had hoped to make it to a town where he could spare the animal's life. Sadly, such things were not meant to be. He would tip his hat. It was the only sign of respect the outlaw could give his favored companion aside from...He would grit his teeth. He needed to escape this rain lest he succumbs to the elements.

Slowly but surely, Jake would limp forwards through the torrent. The cold of the rain is felt even through his jacket by this point. His vision would sway powerfully under such conditions. A feeling of displacement holding sway over his every move. It was like he was on a grand sailing ship with no chance of finding a safe harbor. Hope, was by most accounts now a dim prospect under such squalid conditions. How did it come to this? He could think of the days he and Morgan planned for this escape. All of the scheming it took to bribe off the guards, muscle through the lock safe, and get their hands on the cut from the most recent string of Union Pacific robberies.

Any plans of a clean getaway were spoiled by the arrival of a night guard who had been late to his post. The gunfight to escape the camp had claimed Morgan's life. Jake didn't have a moment to mourn his best friend as he went down in that hail of lead. He lived by the one rule they had established if either bit the farm in the escape. Take the money and run like hell. He ran like hell, with a bit more luck than he'd ever had in trying to break away from the camp. The squall had given him breathing space from his pursuit after they had trailed him up the big river to the South. He saw the wall of black clouds and rode hard for it, never looking back. He supposed death on the range or in a gun duel was better than getting taken alive.

Fate would give Jake Belmont one more shot at things, however. It started as a faint light flickering in the wrath of the storm. He would limp ahead, stumbling as the outlaw's fingers traced downward. A tight grasp on his colt single-action army revolver as fingertips grazed steel. Blue eyes flicked towards the shapes that emerged from the storm like phantoms in the night. Lightning once more illuminated the homestead as the crack of thunder roared overhead. His shadow was small within this place's confines, yet he found relief in the sight of civilization. Even so, he was wary. His pursuit might have lost one or two days in the storm, yet a frightened homesteader could put an end to him rather rapidly with a shotgun blast. A first thought was to steal one of their horses and be off. Disappear like a ghost out of one of the fables he had been told as a child. Yet even offering himself a more generous personal condition, Jake could only foresee getting a little further.

The former bandit would walk up the old wooden steps of this little house. Boots creaking on the third step as he would bothered to call out, "Hello! I don't mean to be a bother..." He would break out coughing. His vocal cords straining between exhaustion and the cold creeping in on him. "I've gotten lost in this gale. I need a place to stay, at least for the night! I can pay handsomely..." It was all Jake could muster at this point. The man angled his hip away from the door to conceal one of the hanging weapons. Fingers wrapped firmly around the hilt of the revolver. Now just praying to God above, he was a quicker draw than whoever stood behind that door if things went south.
 
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