User blog:MockingJester/Robber not included

Well, ain't no robber come this way, clobbering one of the fair citizens just to get away with it.

My trusty companion, gleaming hooves, is all too aware of the disclosed borders, judging by his wary paces left and right. So wary of entering such territory, mostly due to the fact that I happened to be a man, through and through. An agreement that any man entering these places be claimed if captured.

"Ain't no need to worry, hooves, I know yer capable of getting us in and out in a jiffy" I speak to my companion, ushering his defiant hind stance, kicking the air forward before catching what I like to call a 'second wind'. More like a 'silver wind'.

He rushes forward with me well embedded on his saddle, catching the wind in our faces. Looks like that peep talk invigorated my good buddy, seeing as his hooves now worked at their best, drawing from his ludicrous stamina to gallop like a horse straight out of hell. Their shine always did give a good kick to his stride.

But anyway, I see the dust this good for nothing robber keeps kicking as his carriage continues to make an unnecessary amount of visual and auditory noise. Poor guy thinks to elude me by catching the attention of those tail-bound women claiming this place. I don't think he got the time to read up on the fine prints.

Not that I was to remind him in the immediate time span, seeing as his act did allure some unsavory eyes our way. My dead eye can manifest the sound-like projectile being squeezed at us. My companion feels the slight shift in my stance on his back and bellows while completely halting his momentum.

At that moment, I see the infamous spikes spewing their content like a drunken patron doing the same outside the bar, with the sole difference that these funnels are a bit more than a mere exit of excess.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Calls out a voice from the branches above, unmistakenly tethered to our aggressors.

"Looks like someone who forgot to read the warning labels on our piece of land" speaks another voice. And again, gleaming hooves bellows as he jumps away, once again avoiding a row of spikes.

My hand subconsciously taps the cross of my colt, hidden by my hidden flank as I see two similar individuals float down. Pink tails laced with a fleshy inside, pinker hair adorned by animalistic ears of the same brand, outfits that border on revealing, furry paws and leathery wings.

"I do reckon this is manticore territory. Seein' you two standing before me tells that much. And yes, I did read the fine prints on the fences. Unfortunately, I've got a felon trailblazing his hindquarters across"

"Ohh, you mean that sweaty-looking man hoofing it out here? He didn't look like much. Besides, he's going straight for our little settlements...and so are you~

"The question being, will you come the easy way..."

"Or the hard way?" "Or the hard way?"

They speak as if they've already caught me, their arms crossed in an act of authority. So many gaps in their ultimatums, one easily filled with a kill shot. From the branches, from the trees, every angle, open.

Aw well, ol' Carl was buried with his badge a while ago. No point gunning down peeps in the right in their territories. Still, they're in the way.

I sigh "You know, carrying this much spare change is annoying after a while. Loosenin' the pouch be a relief to my sides". My other hand begins searching in said pouch, never removing my eyes from their dubious tails. Too many tales of many a man being sprung in a split-second by those things for me to ignore.

Luckily for me, the two seemed confused by my unorthodox speech "Loosening the pouch? You trying to buy your way out?" Guess they didn't know who I'm supposed to be.

As I pull two coins mirroring the faint expression of a woman etched in them, the other one takes a decisive refusal to my so-called bribery "Ohh, sorry buddy! Coin ain't gon' do it for you. But, we know what will--

With no warning, I chuck the coins in the air, split in their direction. The glint distracts them, as they always did. Their tails snap in focus, their instincts well tapped into, taking alignment to a shot my direction.

Too slow, however...

In the same flash of my coin, I pull out my custom colt, embellished by symbols of a village I carry to my side as a veteran.


 * Bang*


 * Bang*

Two shots, perfectly lined with the coins they strike and bounce off. Magic coins, laced with my silver aura, well into re-directing my aim straight at the two manticores with the alternative blow of a knock out rather than a kill shot.

Headshot! Both of them! The arcane silver of demon embedded from the coins make their presence known, sapping whatever focus they have and consciousness soon following. To make it short, however; they get slapped silly to an albeit, temporary, dirt nap. Literally, a dirt nap, sleeping on the soil, surrounded by grass.

Spinnin' my trusty tool of self-preservation, I holster it back to its home with a pass through the sleeping duo "Very sorry about that. Little miscreant needs a good holler".

We continue to venture forth all day. Gleaming hooves always had a knack to survey the terrain, a little trick that often saved my hide. Naturally, letting him go on auto-pilot has become a habit of mine, especially in a land I've never gone this deep into. He seems to know his way around, almost makes me want to ask whether he did tread about this way.

I mean, save for the obvious hiding spots, gleaming hooves pulled some serious maneuvers to shelter us from more of those manticores flying about, often bound to shortcuts and seemingly untraversable terrain. Bah! Neither of us ever been soft terrain explorers, to begin with.

At night, a quick saddle to a spot with heavy foliage, a spot where them manticore wings can't finesse their way through tree branches and leaves, leaving them to trample the soil with their unbridled sense of authority. Plenty of noise to keep us alert of proximity.

Of course, having to eat and rest in the dark is a bit annoyin' at times. Unsurprisingly, humans and horses aren't the best of night dwellers around these parks. Sleeping to the thoughts of catching that no-good felon by the collar does ease the discomfort, however. Almost as much as catchin' his stolen cargo from that very fine lady. Receipts for this month's tally and a handful of custom-made silk woven to scarfs, enough for a poor sucker like the fleeting milk drinker to get himself around a city of his naming. - Another day, another milestone to place. Beyond my casual little morning tending to myself, nothing changes. Well, nothing but the proximity to this 'snake'.

I shuffle around the kit to my gun and carbine as sleeping in the mud is a sure way to gunk up whatever pieces of metal you have on yourself, with the happening bein' a bit more problematic on delicate pieces such as firearms.

My companion, gleaming hooves laps at a waterbed nearby, having opted to go out in such dawn. As nocturnal as these manticores like to boast, they tend to trickle down in mornings and the first half of the day.

But anyway, I see my horse gallop back to my side looking a bit more jovial than usual, his nostrils tapping to my sides as I get myself up from clearing the barrels "Hey friend, what's up? You're a bit excited right now".

He turns his back while craning his head towards me still, egging me on climbing him "Something to show me, friend? Well alright, let's saddle up!" With the swift gesture of a sheriff on horseback, I quickly snap my legs over gleaming hooves' saddle just for him to start galloping with his frightening speed, almost tipping my hat over. Good grief, I really should think on investing in those hats snaps to keep them on.

That thought dissolved before my mind as my eyes were presented to an interesting sight. A piece of a carriage, a wooden wheel, to be precise, broken and left ashore near the riverbed he was drinking from.

"Well, well, well..." I spout quietly as my companion sets himself beside the flow of water to allow me to disembark. I take hold of the splintered piece, well soaked.

"You've got some serious silver observation, friend, unlike mister tap and dash. Must be working his horses to death trying to compensate for that broken wheel of his..." My eyes dart from the bed of water to the surface beyond it. A harsh line traces from the water "...assuming he even knows why he suddenly picked weigh".

I saddle up once more and we venture forth. Considering the time of day is at the dawn, I reckon they wouldn't be bothered to prance around. Just like home, a perfect time for a morning stroll, with the advantage of having close to none to deal with.

Well, at least until we pass over a path. A highly fabricated path borrowing the sweat and grit of many a builder. The same traces we've been following stop in them, breaking and cracking the tiles placed amidst the forest.

"Must be desperate to simply forgo stealth, huh?" I whip the ropes noosed around gleaming hooves, prompting him to take a full speed. What ensues is nothing less than a blur of images coming and going. Always a surprise time to get adjusted to his full sprint velocity.

Gleaming hooves gallops for what seems to be minutes at most, taking huge swathes of road that would take at least half an hour in total. Until he stops. In the middle of it all...

As I've mentioned before, I fully trust gleaming hooves in whatever action he takes. Having most of these impromptu acts save both our lives in more moments than I can remember will do that. And in this case, turns out the two I've induced a sleeping dose had their whole time to wake up.

To wake up and gather friends. Lots of friends. At least a dozen. Standing at an intercross dominated by a watchtower. With their tails spurned by our arrival. Pointed at us. Mildly at hooves, mostly at me.

"Well now, look who just happened by..." speaks one of the perched lass, a foot so easy-going as it poses squarely over the edge "Mister fancy shooter with a severe case of freedom, roaming about our lands".

I see the two I've made listless a while ago making a rather obscene set of gestures as the middle one continues to speak, their tail agitated by my now hidden hand hovering over the butt of my colt, just out of sight. She sniffs the air in an exaggerated manner "And not a trace of any of these lovely ladies, much less of those you've made to nap on your own person. Now, why would that be?"

I hop down from hooves, well kept to keep my armed side hidden. That they knew that it was armed was irrelevant. Between the target practice, and the uncertainty plaguing their otherwise confident stances, having all of them hesitate on simply plunging down on me and hooves was the only gamble I've had for this moment. Gracious heavens, I hate gambling...

"Well...I was to explain the two you see making a puppet show of shadows behind you that I'm gunnin' for a dirtbag wandering about these places--the same felon I'm currently glaring at!" My eyes dart over the barely holding carriage seated behind the empty gates, where the snivel turns as I call him out, a face full of sweat and dread. Having hooves pile up on his same sense with an unchained bellow at his direction is a really satisfying sight to behold.

Then, the air changes. My instincts kick in as I sense my companion stiffen up. Ahh, perhaps sending him word of m reason here was not the best course of action when dealing with predatory monsters.

The same kind that mistaken my obvious declaration of intent for a weakness of distraction. I duck, hearing the jagged wind of a flinging projectile dart overhead. Then I sidestep, feeling the tiles crack and buck under the weigh of their quills.

Another volley goes my way, forcing me to backstep entirely, same as hooves had done seconds before me. I know their intent, revealed to me as I notice three of them are missing.

I take a deep breath, eyes closed. They open, this time, spurning a bit of a reaction from those who refrained from assaultin' me "Wait, silver eyes?... wasn't there a guy in some settlement sporting the same colors?"

"I'm more intrigued about the coins he just tossed in the air" speaks another, all too enthralled by my seemingly benign acts.

"Shit, silver coins?!" One of the two I've met early before sees the same flip, her eyes darted elsewhere where her comrades hover.

It was all too late for them, my stance is taken, hand subtly twitching over the handle of my colt, now open for all to see.


 * IT'S HIGH NOON*

A glow appears on my sheathed colt as do my eyes, imbued with a now visible set of shimmering aura in silver. An aura that expands throughout my body, allowing me to function in pure instinct. In a flash of the three coins, the trio lunging at me is revealed. In a flash of the same coins, I lift the colt and take aim, each second slowed to but a fraction of its worth.

Three coins, three shots, three incapacitated predators currently under the lull of a forsaken sleep, not to wake up before a full night of sleep.

Their incomprehensible babble continues to persist as I calmly reload my colt, the overlapping afterimage of my shots persisting as well, a gamble to dissuade anymore to come to the front. Although they still outnumbered me and gleaming hooves.

"W-what?! How?! How did he--this! This is a declaration of war, is it?!"

Ohh, war? I had forgotten about the butting of heads fifteen years ago. About the reason. Well, this is an unexpected outcome. One that others come to join, mistaking my unyielding resistance to their claim as a harbinger of war.

I hear all of them yelling the same word "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!" "War!"

"Will you all pipe the hell up here?!" bellows another voice, one pilfering attention from them all. They turn to the center of the tower's top, just now seeing another of their kind wander her way to it. A darker shade of pink on her extra appendages as well as her hair laced to a spiked ponytail.

"The hell is this 'war' stuff Y'all are screeching about, to begin with? I don't see any declaration around here, am I?"

"But matron! He's just gunned down three of us six feet under!"

"Are your eyes working straight right now? 'Cause, that ain't what my functioning eye sees at the moment. Right now, it's telling me that Silver Coin over here just laid down three overly excited subordinates that couldn't bottle their excitement in a much-needed sleep. Speaking of..." she turns to others of her kind "Would some of you be so kind as to pick our sister sleeping on the job right now? I need to have a word with our 'guests'".

A group of manticores approaches the sleeping ones, their tail facing me...of course. My gun remains tethered to my hand, spurning forth a bit of nervousness. "At ease, mister silver doubloons, they know they can't catch your gun-slinging sheriff...ness".

"But anyway, you don't usually wander these parks, do you, sheriff?" The leader seems to know a bit more about who I am, though I didn't expect her to see through the coins I flip so many times before shooting.

A perplexed expression masks my eyes between my mask and hat, one she can easily see. Again, I forget the monster variety loves reading emotion "Oh, don't presume a surprise, Mister Silver Coin. Wouldn't be bothering talking to a gunner swathing through my sisters just looking to have a good time with stragglers if there were piles of dead lying around. Luckily, those magic coins you love to flip so much seem to induce peeps to a night sleep rather than a dirt nap. Heard a lot through those darlings that came to occupy our lonely nights. As gratitude, my ears are all up, silver sheriff".

"This man" I point to the traveler.

"Afraid I can't do that" she shakes her head while his previous panic turns to triumph. A belligerent mocking creeps on his face, prone to make sneering expressions all the way. In a way, though, she did promote immunity on this man. Aw well, catching the man was to be a bonus, but...

"I reckon you'd say that. To that, I wish to joust a rebuttal, if you'd be so kind..." The underlings to this imposing manticore whisper to each other. Their voices feed the thought of an all-out confrontation.

Well, good thing their leader is the leader, seeing as she was aware that I simply sought a dialogue of compromises. She drops down to eye level, walking to meet me and gleaming hooves. My trusty companion, unlike with the rest of 'em, is perfectly at ease with this brand of stoicism. Probably her tail folded back in an idle manner.

"Shoot".

"Well, to take a long story short, since this man will be going to spend his day in your people's company, I reckon he won't be needin' the small box of wealth nor the woven silk he's been trucking outta here. Not that they were of his sweat, to begin with".

"Stolen..." she inquires, her functioning eye-wincing in my direction "Strong accusations coming from a man to another, sheriff".

I pull out a picture of the 'damage'. A picture featuring miss Lane as the bruise to her otherwise green-haired head stands out as an invading shade of purple among a beautiful tide adorned with an autumn leaf.

She takes it as I speak "Blunt object to the head. Lass was likely sleeping or otherwise unprepared for a sneak attack like that".

Other manticores land, their tails riled up under the presumption that their perplexed leader may need of them. An assumption made manifest as she turns to them, to which they turn to the traveler, perplexed himself at the impromptu front and center "Now hold on there! Ain't nothing about bonking some random investor--

"If you search his caravan, chances are you'll find a blunt object among his belonging. My deputies reported no such tool among the crime scene".

Before that sweaty weasel could muster any objection, the subordinates were already up and down in his carriage, lifting useless junk all over the ground.

Sure enough, the sweat goblin's face lit up in more of his pungent smell as one of the ladies pull out a wooden log. A table foot. "Hum, the tip is a bit bloodied..." They carry it to their boss like a puppy would a stick to her master.

"Now wait just a dang minute!" spouts the bile eating ne'er-do-well, his voice quivering with uncertainty. The woman I'm entertaining the thought of a guilty man slowly cranes her head back to him, her one eye feeding him with the sight of a staunch warning. That such a violent man walks among them would be...unacceptable.

Now, I greatly enjoyed watching this greasy slimeball dampen the lower quarters of his rag he calls clothing. Watchin' his only haven collapse to an iron cage. One that, while I can't personality extract justice, was still soothing my ears in a karmic backlash. But, there were still due.

"Now that I've convinced you of his...fallacy, may I point you to the previously mentioned items he may have dashed with? Items born of the lady's own sweat and mental tinkerin' over the month, mental tinkerin' he bypassed with blunt brawn, might I add".

Once again, the subordinates ruffle through this snake tongue's caravan, entitled to a batch of woven silk and a midsize box. One littered with gold doubloons.

The leader expresses her disbelief with a false look of surprised, nudging her head to me. Her subordinates swiftly carry this stuff back to me, giddy with excitement. An excitement turned mostly to mister tap-and-dash, shivering by the gates.

"Well, sheriff, I do gracefully thank you for your forwarding honesty. I pray these returned good will be enough to you". Their leader talks with a grateful tone, though those at the top, including the two who dropped, all now glared at the traveler. Unsurprisingly, having an upstart thief scouring their belongings with the measly threat of violence isn't a quality many here would tolerate for long. From what I hear of manticores, they're usually more than happy to 're-educate' one such as him in 'proper' manners. Music to my ears, a gracious alternative to bagging him.

I turn to the leader as gleaming hooves approach for me to attach the stuff "As far as I'm concerned, the way you and the rest of your ilk are looking is sentence enough for me. And I reckon there's more to it than meets the eye".

"Ohh, you have no idea..." She turns from me, a startling aura of malediction pouring from her being. Beginning to think havin' a gunfight with her might have tolled my downfall years prior to this merciful path I've come to enjoy. If the poor sucker's expression is anything to go by, then he's got a world o' hurting coming his way.

One he contests as I hear what sounds to be the most pathetic voice so far. A nasal whining pungent with pleading and beggin'. A stench for the manticore boss, her subordinates, and hooves. His hand stretches to me, desperate to get himself out of this dung he dug himself in before throwing away the paddle "Sheriff!"

"What, pip-squeak?" He squirms at the apathetic voice I shower his hide in, uncaring of his imminent fate, surrounded by those lovely ladies he likely would have tapped before dashin'.

"What?! You're not serious, are you?! Aren't you going to arrest me?! Isn't that why you're here?!"

"Why would I stop a man who ran all the way over here, to begin with? You look like you're content---

"What kind of sheriff are you?! A minute ago you were hot on my heels and now, you back away?! No judgment?!"

"Judgment--" I place a hand on the leader's shoulder, the latter prone to move aside. From the same hand, I turn its fingers to a pointing stance, directed solely at the traveler. My voice becomes booming, the person I am, shrouded by the shadow borne from the blinding light of silver emanating from my irises. A judgment he wants? Well, a judgment he's gettin'.

"Whoever you are, whatever you are! I, Carl, sheriff of the Frontier settlements, holder of the title of Silver Coin, have judged thee. And thy have to be found wanting! Wanting! Wanting of violent robbery! Wanting, of first-degree attempted murder! Wanting, of kidnapping! Wanting, of detaining a hostage! By the evidence presented at the crime scenes, by the evidence found in thy person, I declare thee...guilty!"

"Guilty--

"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!" I approach the man under the shine of my silver eyes, my voice rolling like a thunderous tone to his shivering body, his only word barely uttered as my finger now planted itself firmly on his forehead, my voice reduced to a whisper "...guilty. By all the power invested in me, I declare you guilty. Your sentence? One of your making. Exiled from the Frontier settlement, prisoner of these lands..."

I turn to the manticore leader cracking her knuckles as she eagerly expected my next chain of sentences "This one is your warden. Her word is the law to you. Should she call me, at any point in your life sentence, to tell me of your escape...then I shall track you. I shall find you. And I shall bring you back to your jailer, who at this point, will have a promise of harsher time with your name on it. That. Is. My. Judgment..."

I turn away from him, unable to withstand the stench of pity he tries to rub on me as I feel the man immediately jumped on by manticores, eager to 'begin'. I walk past their leader, reasonably impressed by the tone I picked on the slimeball "Quite the voice you have, sheriff! Shame there's already another with your name on her".

"Well, thank you, ma'am. I trust you have the situation in hand now". The grave tone I uttered is replaced with a more docile and friendly scent, one following me as I saddle on gleaming hooves.

"Ohh, you have no idea..."

Picking the noose to re-direct my trusty companion, we ride away from the land, privy to the screams of that grease beaver in the process of learning that his little tap-and-dash isn't especially effective against predator-types. --- Days traveling back. Much calmer when you don't have a slippery felon to track. Gleaming hooves' gallop is much more benign, allowing the two of us to take in the land once claimed by them. Breath-taking, to say the least. Were it not for the whole 'claiming' part, I reckon these parks would make beautiful places to walk through.

Hooves must be thinkin' the same, taking every stop he can to munch on some silky smooth leaves dangling off the innumerable trees, assuming he's not lapping the water from the nearby riverbed. Ain't got any complaints about that, peeps at home not expecting us before at least days anyway. Overworked himself to catch that weasel.

Good time does come to an end, however, with us straddling back to the Frontier east, where I keep watch along the rest. Spooked quite a number of fellows who, again, did not expect us to be back.

"Sheriff! You're back this early?!" One of the deputies around comes running, the evening spending its leisure time midway in the sky.

"Indeed I do. With quite the package, no less" I saddle down with the woven silk stripes and the hefty box of doubloons. Many other deputies with a few others come running, curious about the things I've come to carry on my person.

Excited questions are at the front, to which I settle them down with an offer "Calm down, Y'all. I know this little expedition has you teeming at the surface with anticipation. If that's the case, then saddle up at the saloon where I can properly give a count to that slimy grease ball's downfall...including why the vermin isn't among the goods you see present".

Barely done uttering this proposition, the entirety of the mob dash over to the mentioned Sweeping Leaves saloon, leaving me, gleaming hooves, one of my deputies...and the lass herself. At this point, I ain't surprised to see magic raccoon make use of that confounding magic to splash their way here and here...

"Well I'll be..." she utters in joyful surprise "I knew our dear sheriff would come through the moment they said you'd hunt down that felon with my belonging".

"A pleasure to see a devoted citizen's rightful items returned, ma'am". I present her hard-gained wealth, which she reaches for with her telekinesis might, leaving the items to float almost of their own volition.

"I do thank you from the bottom of my heart! I know this jeopardy hasn't been easy..." She places her hand on her bosom with what looks to be a faint reddening on her cheeks.

Now, I remember that manticore leader speaking of another with 'my name on her', but I highly doubt that. Between the apparent busy nature of either of our work, making a claim as this seemed a bit far-fetched.

But regardless "Don't worry about it, ma'am. It's part of my job description". I take a step to the right, about to engage with my deputy on the encroaching event spanning over...

And the sensation of my arm embedded in what would immediately reveal to be the ma'am's characteristically generous chest tickles the back of my mind with a bell loud enough to span over an entire city.

"Now hold on here, sheriff! You don't think of leaving a grateful lass such as I in the midst of a heartfelt appreciation, are you?" She clings to my arm with nothing more than a cuddly bear's strength while simultaneously making it clear she could gather more pressing power should she wish to. Monsters, I tell ya what...

"Well ma'am, I reckon you'd want to secure your belonging. Besides, I have a few days worth of reports and paper to get through, after feeding hungry patrons with the details of my expedition through that land".

"Oh no, you don't good sheriff!" The lady makes her stance more insistent as her autumn shaded irises turn to my trusty deputy somehow awaiting her words. Seems like they had a few exchanges of words as I was to find out much later on "Being a lady of the trade, I can tell when a man is overworking himself. I think it's time for you to lay off groundwork to your subordinates over here".

"She ain't wrong, sheriff. Good times for us to get elbow deep in our trade with the trainin' wheels off, 'specially with some lazing off with how dull days currently are. A good donkey kick to the rump to set them straight the moment this peaceful idleness going more south than a powder keg stranded in the scorching desert".

"Wait for just a dang minute! I ain't the mooching type, Trevis. You know that" Seems my words were to be counterfeited with unbarred arguments as the good lady takes the parole once more.

"No worries, you won't be drifting idly in a rocking chair. Turns out, I'm also in a need of laying off desk work. And you know I pretty much own most of this piece of ground, d you not?"

Well now, had I voiced my doubt to that leader, I would have traveled back just to apologize for doubting that dubious sense of belonging they all carry like compasses. Looks like I've got myself the perfect excuse to plant my feet firmly on a soft cushion with a lass in my arms. With our local investor being the said lass, a jackpot in itself.

A playing tease she drifts off, her proverbial palm-laced in my own. Might as well go along with it, though my voice trails better in authority than fallacy "Deputy, am I hearin' this right? You blackmailing me, ma'am?"

"And what if I am, sheriff?" Seems that lack of outrage pitch from yours truly ain't dissuading her in the least, sounding gladder at that little wordplay being jousted between us two "You seem to forget how easily I could put that fancy department of yours well out of business. Well, unless I am truly and well entertained out of the idea if you get my drift".

"Well, I'll be..." Miss Lane makes a smile of malice as devoid of foundation as a drunk of balance. The deal is sealed, I'm going on vacation "My regrets, deputy, looks like I gotta take a dive for missy over here. Tell the boys to carry on for, will ya?"

I toss him my badge and hat, revealing a rather mundane cut of brown hair. They didn't pick up the silver pattern as my eyes did. Trevis catches it and runs off to the nearest station "Of course, boss! Make sure not to aggravate your captor!"

We watch him kick the dust from his greaves as he disappears from sight. Miss Lane turns to me with a much more genuine smile under her round glasses "Well, that takes care of that. A question for you, my off-duty 'captive'. What would be the probability of people finding out the 'dubious' source of your sudden shore leave?"

"Well..." I see her waving a pair of tickets for a resort somewhat away from this docile settlement. Heard this kind of place was...overpriced, to say the least. To see this pair of gilded paper flapping between her fingers is a high state of faith she must have had in that impromptu off-time.

I take her to my good friend gleaming hooves, slowly helping her up the sturdy bovine, following on the saddle. To the train station for a few days under the radar.

Of course, miss Lane couldn't wait for the two of us to be at the said resort before her hands were already guiding my own around her waist with a fondness to keep them here. Somewhere, sometime prior to that very moment, in my job description, my superior told me that some monsters would try to forgo the badge for the man wearing it. Well, I ain't complaining, not. At. All.

"Assuming everyone in this dusty cozy home of our piled up in one way or another for that off-time, pretty low. Outside observers, however...well, it's not the first time I see unbalanced individuals yell murder or the sort after a night of heavy drinking".

"Is that so? Then you better work on your act, unless you want a lack of fund on your end, sheriff~ I feel her hands press on mine, emphasizing how fake her threat was. With that much relaxation comin' my way, I'm none the wiser... -