The roads that connected towns out here couldn’t be called much more than well traveled dirt paths. Worn tracks from where wagon wheels drove through along with the marks of horseshoes in the dirt from the powerful horses that pulled them were about the only sign that this truly was a road that led somewhere. The somewhere for this one happened to be the burgeoning city of Baltimare.

Least that was the endpoint. Generally speaking the road stretched all the way from the capitol of Canterlot to Baltimare and hit a number of smaller towns and stops along the way. It was a long distance to travel between any of those stops though, a fellow on horseback could make it in a day from Canterlot to that first town of Flintlock if they pushed their horse hard but travelers in a covered wagon or a carriage heading at a leisurely pace would take a day or two. There were already plans to make a new line of the railroad that would connect Baltimate and Canterlot and stop off at the places like Flintlock but problems like labor shortages, politics, and greedy business people were getting in the way just like they always do.

So for the near future and maybe the not so near future a single rider on horseback was still the fastest way to get anywhere going this direction.

Course you could always just walk too. But now who would want to do that? What kind of crazy fellow would you have to be to walk through a damn near desert with rattlers, coyotes, marauding Buffalo Men and other outlaws, and the threat of starvation or dying of thirst always hanging above your head right up there with the unforgiving sun?…

A tumbleweed blew right past the tall lady as she walked down the road heading east towards Flintlock. Her brown cowboy boots were immaculate leather that looked not just brand new but as if they had undergone a shine just an hour before. Despite the dust blowing along with the wind and tumbleweeds they were unscuffed and the stitching leading up the shins done in an elaborate golden pattern of criss-crossing lines. Her tan canvas and cotton trousers were well-fitting and tucked into her boots, held up by a brown belt with a bright golden buckle in the shape of the sun. The white blouse she wore had long sleeves and was buttoned up tightly, also neatly tucked into her pants so nothing flapped about. And the light-colored duster she wore over it all was the only thing that looked old and worn and not brand new. It was long, hanging open and unbuttoned off her shoulders almost down to just right above her feet, a size or so slightly too big for her despite her being quite a bit taller than the average lady. On her head the 10-gallon hat she wore was brown with its brim tucked low to obscure the top of her face if she happened to walk by anyone. It also helped to give that face of hers just a little bit of shade out here in the hot sun. The hair the hat colored was a might bit unusual too, but not so strange to be impossible in the country of Equestria, being a long flowing set of pink, teal, and blue hair that looked far too rich and well taken care of to be on the head of someone walking through a desert on a dirt road. But it matched how flawless her pale skin still looked despite traveling down the road to Flintlock alone without cover or comfort.

The lady’s clothes were not the only thing she was carrying with her either.

As if to say she was even more unusual than the sight of a lone woman walking down a harsh dirt road would suggest, she had a pair of diamond—real diamond—earrings dangling from her ears along with a golden necklace that was partially hidden in her shirt. To show off those kinds of valuables so casually made a number of statements. And would invite all sorts of attention.

That wasn’t even getting started on the guns she was carrying. Any lady traveling alone had to carry a gun if she knew what was good for her. Her gun-belt was just as new and expensive looking as the rest of her outfit—minus the duster. And the single-action revolvers she carried on it in reverse cavalry style on both hips were of another level of quality entirely. Polished silvery metal that ended in real ivory handles, the guns clearly cost a fortune by themselves and at first glance looked like they would’ve been more fitting in a display case in some museum or rich fellow’s mansion. Yet the feeling of deadliness that came from them and the cold white hands that were always calmly in reach would’ve changed the minds of anyone who took more than one quick look.

It was impossible to tell how long she’d been walking to Flintlock. And impossible to know if that was her true destination or just another stop on the way to wherever it was she was going.

Either way the lady kept walking on her way, walking in the middle of the hot day by her lonesome, walking with purpose and her mind focused. Every now and then her right thumb flicked over the butt of her revolver. It happened each time she felt whatever was on the end of her necklace jangle against her chest.

A breeze made the tail end of her duster flutter above the dirt road and at the slight tilting up of her head she was able to look out down the road past the brim of her hat. Flintlock was finally in sight and despite it not being much of a sight to see it was a welcome one. While her eyes stayed glued ahead onto the town, off the road to her side a prairie dog fixed her with just as much of a stare, not taking its eyes off the lady or taking the risk of making a movement until she passed by. Its instincts told it to freeze and avoid the attention of the human as if she was a coyote or a hawk on the hunt.

Now Flintlock wasn’t a big town but it also wasn’t a one road, go down main-street and then you’re out, kind of town either. It was a real home for all the people who lived there and you could find anything you’d need to if you were a traveler passing through. Why it even had a fairly large ranch on the north side and a pecan orchard on the south side. Both things that could grow in the future and make their owners wealthy. Especially if the train finally did come through here.

The lady’s eyes didn’t pay such things more than a single glance though. She was walking right on down the road into the main street that bisected Flintlock where a number of other dirt roads all spread out from. That was the best way to find whatever it was you were looking for in an unfamiliar town. By the time her cowboy boots had carried her to the first buildings of town the sun had almost started to hit the tall mountains on the horizon and the dusty air helped give its light an orange glow as midday began the change to dusk. Walking past one of the buildings, an old-timer sitting in a rocking chair on the porch lightly strummed a banjo. He saw her come into Flintlock but his tired eyes paid her no mind. She was ten years and one empty moonshine bottle too late for him to care

She didn’t look around up and down the streets or act like some confused girl unsure of where to go. Her boots were walking steady down the main road with her eyes barely glancing at any buildings she passed and her face staying as unreadably smooth as the best gambler’s poker face. Some men and women out in the streets noticed her, the locals recognized her for a stranger but no one had really gotten a good enough look at her yet to really take heed of her. No one had gotten close enough to see the expensive and high-class clothes and jewelry she wore. To the people in town watching the stranger walk down their street from a distance she just looked like a tall lady that was all alone.

It didn’t take long for the lady to come to the first stop, her first destination in this breeze of a town, a large two-story building that took up the center of the south side of main-street. The wooden deck in front of it had been washed and swept earlier this morning to keep it clean. Necessary for what the place was if you wanted people to come on in in the first place. The lady’s eyes looked up to the awning that hung over the deck and the sign placed right in the middle of it: HOTEL & BAR

Two words that spoke to the soul of any traveler.

She stepped up the three steps that led up to the deck, each board of wood creaking underneath her, and calmly walked right to the wide double doors that led into the hotel. Heavy and well carved oak with black iron handles, the lady pulled them both open together and stepped on inside. The light from outside silhouetted her briefly before she let the doors fall back shut behind her and took a look around.

To her right was a staircase that led up to the second floor of the hotel and likely all the rooms and to her left there was a long bar well stocked with beer and the harder stuff along the far wall. An open floor sat in front of her filled up with card tables and chairs that were seated with all manner of folk. And of course, when a lady as conspicuous and downright pretty as the one who just walked in through the doors came in, all the eyes from those folk turned to her. Close enough now that anyone indoors could get a look at her, the lascivious men noted her very well-grown body that the unflattering clothes couldn’t hide, and the avaricious men noted the luxuriousness of damn near everything she had on her.

The lady ignored those looks though, or perhaps didn’t care in the first place to notice them, and instead sauntered on over to the bar and the bartender behind it. Him being the only employee she could expressly see of this establishment at the moment.

The bartender had been busy cleaning mugs with a rag when she had come in, now he kept a wary eye on her past his glasses as she came right up to him and took a seat on the stool before him. He had to admit—he found her something good to look at too. A tall drink of water, even an inch or two taller than the average man, and when she tilted her hat up and he saw her face she looked as pretty as any woman he had ever laid eyes on. But there was a stoniness to those eyes too and a threatening aura when he considered the guns she had on her belt. And the expensive jewelry too, was she really so careless to outright flaunt it? Acting like that was a good way to find a gun pressed up against your back one day.

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked her.

The lady slowly shook her head. “I’d like a room. With a bathtub.”

The bartender nodded slowly and licked his lips. “We got rooms, room with a bathtub will cost a bit extra though.”

“How much?”

He stopped his cleaning of the mug and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “How much do ya got?”

There was only the slightest narrowing of her eyes at his question but her unspoken response was perfectly clear: Don’t play that game.

“Ehem,” he coughed and put his mug and rag down. “It’ll be 15 for a night.”

“Thank you. Do you have any rooms facing the back alley and not the main street left?” She asked him.

“I’d say we do,” he nodded.

“That’s what I want then,” she said and reached her right hand inside her duster. The bartender watched tentatively as she found an interior pocket and pulled out a small draw-string bag. It clinked when she put it on the counter and she opened it up to show it full of coins. Three 5-pieces were all she left on the counter for him before putting the bag away, with one more 5-piece sliding between her fingers. “I have something else I’d like to ask you about too.”

The bartender casually picked up the three coins, with his eyes flickering to the last one, before he responded to her. “What might that be?”

“I’m looking for someone. A woman, would be close to my height, but with dark hair, pretty, carries a revolver with an ebony handle, and-” she reached up to her necklace with her left hand and pulled it all the way out of her shirt to show off the medallion at the end of it. A pure golden sun. “Wears a medallion like this, except in the shape of the moon.”

The bartender’s eyes widened. He had never seen such a single expensive piece of jewelry outside of Canterlot. It must’ve been 500 bits alone.

“Have you seen her?” The lady continued, for the first time the slightest bit of emotion seemed to seep into her voice as she implored the bartender to think. “Or heard of anyone matching her description? I’d very much appreciate if you did.”

“I’m sorry but she doesn’t sound familiar to me,” the bartender quickly shook his head side to side, his jowls shaking. Seeing her so casually pull something like that out in a room full of strangers almost made him scared. “There are, there are some other places around town you maybe could ask though. They might’ve heard something.”

The lady sighed and nodded, sliding the fourth coin along the counter to the bartender. “I see, thank you. Now what room will I be in?”

“One second,” the bartender said and walked over to another part of the bar behind the counter, he kneeled down and took a key out of his pocket, using it to open up a drawer that had a number of keyrings on hooks inside it. Taking one out he stood back up and walked over to the lady. “You’ll be room 412. Just up the stairs and to your left, can’t miss it. And uh, just in case it wasn’t clear, the 15 bits is what it costs for one night.”

She nodded. “If I’m staying more than one night I’ll come back and pay.”

The lady then got off her barstool and started to turn away when the bartender stopped her. “Hold on, miss!” He said in an urgent whisper.

She gave him a raised eyebrow in question until he pointed at her medallion.

“You shouldn’t go around just showing something like that off. Anyone would attract the wrong sort of attention doing something like that. Doubly so for a lady like you.”

“Thank you for your concern,” she smiled and tucked the medallion and the rest of her necklace back into her shirt. “But you don’t need to worry, I’ll be fine.”

He watched as she turned around and walked across the floor of the hotel and over to the stairs. Something about her just screamed trouble, he shouldn’t get any more involved with her than he already had. Owners of the hotel wouldn’t like that one bit. He had given her fair warning and that was good enough for him. Now he had some mugs that he needed to get back to cleaning.

Being done with her business down here and now having her key, the lady got to the stairs and placed her hand on the banister. But before taking a step up them she noticed a few things on the wall next to the stairs. There were some portraits, some mirrors and paintings, along the wall leading up the staircase, but what caught her attention were the wanted posters. A couple of them were plastered up along with some news bulletins.

One of them looked brand new: “Trixie Lulamoon- Wanted Dead or Alive”

Apparently according to the poster she was some kind of traveling magician or performer turned bank robber. The portrait on the wanted poster showed an ecstatically grinning young woman who didn’t look the part of criminal at all. The lady almost grinned in wry amusement at her naive features.

The other poster next to it was an older one that had been clearly tacked up for a while: “Sunny Flare- Wanted Alive”

That was a familiar name to the lady. Sunny Flare—leader of the Shadowbolt Gang, a group of violent outlaws that robbed and killed unlucky travelers across the country. Sunny Flare and her closest underlings normally would’ve been wanted dead or alive. Or just dead. But Governor Mare wanted them alive specifically so she could put on a highly publicized “trial” and execution as a warning to all the criminals of Equestria. As well as reassuring the common people of the power of the law.

Neither of those criminals had anything to do with the lady though and after regarding the wanted posters for a moment she walked up the stairs to the second floor of the hotel so she could at long last retire to her new room and the bath inside for the night.

Now down below, at one of the card tables in the back corner of the first floor, another gal that was a patron of the hotel and bar had been watching this last the whole time until she disappeared up the stairs. Spitfire had been playing solitaire when the tall lady from out of town came in and stole her attention. The confident way she carried herself, the guns she wore, the expensive jewelry, it all made for a very interesting person and Spitfire loved anything that was interesting. She heard the bartender warn the lady about not flaunting her wealth and when she looked around at the other tables and saw a number of guys hungrily staring at the lady she couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to herself. Spitfire could tell, anyone who tried to mug that stranger without thinking things through was going to end up dead. No woman could travel alone if they couldn’t use those guns and use them well.

Room 412 had a bedroom, a bathroom, and a closet. The door to it was now safely locked and the bathroom occupied, with the tin basin tub filled up with warm water and soap bubbles. The duster was hung up in the closet, her jewelry minus the sun medallion was on the nightstand by her bed, her clothes were neatly folded on the counter next to the bathroom sink, including a matching set of lacy white undergarments that also spoke to the wearer’s class. And her gun-belt was carefully placed next to the sink as well, always in reach. With a stretch the naked lady prepared for her bath. The clothes didn’t do her great figure justice, the enchantingly long legs ended in wide hips and a thin waist, not an ounce of fat on her, and her ample breasts were perfectly shaped. Curves everywhere they were wanted and nowhere they were unwanted. It was the kind of dynamite body the local ladies of Flintlock would kill for.

Celestia dipped into the bath with a pleasant sigh, submerging herself completely for a moment to get her hair wet before coming back out and resting her head on the rim of the basin. Covered in soap and water she stared silently at the ceiling while her large breasts floated in the water. The only thing she was wearing was her necklace and sun medallion on it that stayed submerged between her breasts.

She knew she wouldn’t find who she was looking for here in Flintlock but she hoped to at least find a clue or a sighting. So far though it was just nothing. Tomorrow morning she’d go out around the town and ask around some of the popular places and big names.

Celestia had to close her eyes to stop thinking about any of that for the moment. It was difficult for her to drag her mind off it but she wanted to relax right now. This bath was the first one she had had in far too long and she was determined to enjoy it, and it needed to ease her tired body and mind. She inhaled deeply through her nose with her chest rising and then exhaled to let it fall. For a long while she rested like that, trying to keep her mind empty or at most just thinking about the warm water cleansing her body.

Without looking she reached over to the counter and grabbed the bar of rough orange soap that was sitting there, standing up with her eyes still closed she roamed over every inch of her body with it. Her arms were first, then her chest, she stood one leg up on the rim of the tub and scrubbed it down, then stood up the other. With the soap and water dripping from her she placed the bar back in its spot on the counter before sitting down for a last dip to rinse the suds off. Once she was done with that soak she stood up and reached for a towel that hung on the wall opposite the sink. She had to admit that the extra bits had been worth it. Drying off her hair and upper body first she stepped out of the tub, the floor got a little wet but the wood would just have to live with it, her long legs were next and at the end of it she dropped the now wet towel unceremoniously on the floor. Going up to the mirror she looked her hair over before grabbing a brush that had been piled with her clothes that earlier she had retrieved from out of one of her duster’s pockets. She wasn’t styling it since she’d be heading over to the bed in a moment but she was making sure it wouldn’t tangle or get any knots while she slept.

Satisfied, she dropped the brush in the sink and let it lie there, grabbing her gun-belt but leaving the rest of her clothes she left the bathroom and walked into the bedroom. She had seen better beds but this would still do. It was nicer than sleeping in the dirt or dry grass. Always being careful nowadays she made sure to put her guns over the headboard where she could grab them immediately even while lying in bed. With a short exhale of breath from her nose she sighed and hopped into bed. Resting her head on the feather pillow she turned on her side and faced away from the hotel room’s door.

Her left hand reached up to gently grasp and caress the sun medallion. Doing that, Celestia fell asleep.

Spitfire stood between two rows of pecan trees early in the morning. Her gaze was fixed dead ahead at an imaginary opponent a hundred paces away, the two of them getting ready to draw and see which one of them would leave this orchard alive. On her right hip sat a double-action revolver that was well used from years of dueling and sharpshooting. In her left had was a pecan.

“Ten!” Spitfire called suddenly and threw the pecan hard in front of her.

With her right hand she smoothly drew the pistol with lightning speed and aimed for the flying pecan.

No gunshot though. Miss Pecan Sandy who owned the orchard wouldn’t be happy to hear a booming gunshot suddenly ring out in the middle of the morning. Spitfire just had to visualize the shot. It was perfect, of course, the pecan blown to pieces and her revolver back in its holster in the blink of an eye. Sadly this was the only way for her to really practice her quickdraw around here. Accuracy was easy to keep up but without a real opponent you needed to do everything you could to make sure your draw never lost any speed.

And Spitfire was adamant about keeping her draw as great as ever. She had been taught how to draw and how to gunfight by Grand Pear, the former fastest gun in Equestria. Retired now with Spitfire taking that title.

A gunslinger by heart she found that it sadly didn’t do much to pay the bills by trade. Not unless you wanted to break the law or be the law and Spitfire didn’t care to do much of either. Traveling around for far too long ended up taking her here where she now worked as muscle for Pecan Sandy to dissuade any thieves from her pecan orchard. She almost regretted taking up this job for so long though, it didn’t give her the opportunities to test herself and prove that she was even faster than Grand Pear had been in his prime. She hadn’t had a real challenge or chance to showoff her draw since her rival Fleetfoot had challenged her. And now Fleetfoot was six feet under.

Flintlock was boring, that was just the simple truth. Everyday she woke up hoping that some dumb outlaws would get the stupid idea to try and rob Pecan Sandy just so she’d have a moving target to practice on. Another week of this and she really might up and make the decision to leave in search of more dangerous pastures.

She had heard of the so-called “Hero of Manehatten”, the one who cut down the whole McColt Family. Maybe she’d go out looking for her to see what she was made of and if she had a quickdraw that could impress Spitfire?

For now she just cracked her knuckles and stretched her back, running a hand through her fiery, spiky orange hair she turned around and started to walk towards the large farmhouse that Pecan Sandy owned. No thieves were going to try stealing anything at this time of day, not with all the farmhands out working too. Spitfire walked by a number of the boys out on their ladders collecting the pecans, a few she gave a wave or even a wink to, getting a kick out of their flustered reactions. She liked it the most though when the ones who knew her better gulped.

Walking back inside the farmhouse from the large bay doors that led out to part of the orchard, Spitfire became privy to something that she hadn’t expected but was very pleased to see today. That tall stranger was in the parlor talking with Miss Pecan Sandy. Despite the fact that normally someone carrying a gun suddenly walking into a room would get your attention, the lady seemed to take no notice of Spitfire whatsoever. Spitfre watched again as the stranger pulled out her sun medallion and asked Pecan Sandy if she had seen a similar but moon-shaped one as it.

Unfortunately for the stranger, Pecan Sandy shook her head. Just like the bartender/clerk at the hotel she didn’t know anything about whoever the stranger was looking for.

So the lady sighed with her eyes downcast towards the floor and turned to leave. Spitfire stood there watching as she left the house, waiting until the door was closed and she was out of ear-shot before turning to her “boss”.

“That lady still making it obvious to everyone she meets how many valuables she’s carrying?”

Pecan Sandy nodded with a grim look on her face. “Mhm, I say she can probably handle herself decent but she’s just inviting trouble casually showing off that necklace like that. Who is she?”

Spitfire shrugged. “Just someone who came in from out of town yesterday.” She looked towards the door and licked her lips, a sudden desire and bout of inspiration coming to her. “Miss Sandy, if you don’t mind I’ll be stepping out for a moment.

Before Pecan Sandy had actually answered or given her permission, Spitfire was already walking out the door and looking to catch up with the tall lady. It wasn’t difficult since she was walking at a leisurely pace back down the road that led from the orchard and into town. Spitfire assumed she was going to look for more people to question and had all day ahead of her, no reason to be rushed.

With Spitfire walking at a slightly more hurried pace there was no way the lady hadn’t heard her coming from behind but Spitfire still called out to her. “Hey!”

The lady paused, slowly she looked over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised under her hat, both hands on her hips. “Yes?”

“I saw you in the hotel yesterday. You know you shouldn’t just go around alone like this making yourself a target,” Spitfire told her.

The lady just smiled. “Thank you for the warning but I’m alright.”

Spitfire grinned and shook her head. “I aint warning you I’m here to make an offer to you. Talk big about being alright all you want, I know you gotta be good with those guns, I can tell, but that doesn’t mean you can handle everything on your own. I guarantee others in this town who aint so savory have already heard about you and that expensive medallion you’re showing off to any damn person who’ll listen to you. There’s a couple of groups who’d take that thing right off your hands even if they have to shoot you first, and I wouldn’t expect what passes for the law in this town to do anything to help you.” Spitfire licked her lips. “But I can help ya, I don’t know if you’ve heard of me or the gunslinger by the name of Grand Pear but my name’s Spitfire and I’m good with this gun I carry. You pay me and I can help protect you while you go around town looking for whatever the hell it is you’re looking for. Hell, maybe even we could keep that deal up when you leave town.”

It was quiet for a few seconds between the two of them as the lady’s eyes looked up for a brief second as she clearly put on a show of fake thinking about Spitfire’s offer before responding.

“I’m sorry but I’ll have to decline your offer,” the lady shook her head and just like that started walking back down the road.

Spitfire gawked after her. “Whaddaya mean? You’re making a fool of yourself, you know? I wasn’t just making things up, there are gangs in this town that’ll outnumber you and rob you! They won’t give you a chance for a fair fight so it won’t matter how good you think you are with those pistols!”

The lady just kept walking away, other than a slight wave goodbye she ignored Spitfire as she went to her next destination.

“Tch,” Spitfire clicked her teeth. “Fine! See if I care about what happens to you! I gave you a fair warning.” She angrily kicked some dirt after the lady and spat on the ground before turning around and heading back up to Pecan Sandy’s farmhouse, in more foul of a mood than she had been before.

Celestia was disappointed in how little was turning up on her venture through town this morning in search of information. And even “little” was putting it generously: she hadn’t heard anything. The pecan orchard was the first stop and then she was planning on going from south to north and hit every big place in town where people either gathered or frequented. The owners or employees of such establishments were a good bet for people that had information she wanted.

She looked up into the sky, the sun had only started to rise a short while ago. Celestia could probably make it through the whole town in one day but then she’d have to go back to the hotel anyways unless she wanted to leave and not get any real sleep tonight. Best to do part of her investigating for today and save the rest for tomorrow. That way she could eat, bathe, get some good sleep, and leave earlier tomorrow without being tired or hungry. Cost an extra 15 bits but she could afford it.

And by the looks of how her travels had gone so far an extra day not on the chase wouldn’t hurt anything either.

Celestia sighed when she got back into the rest of town and found herself at an intersection. The barber was on the northeast corner of the road and that was her next stop. She could already see someone getting a haircut in his chair through the glass window, an early appointment apparently. Didn’t matter, that just gave her two people she could ask for information. So she strode on up right to the deck that connected a number of buildings on this street, which made sure the doors and all weren’t just at dirty ground level.

She pushed the barbershop door open and it rang a little bell placed up above it, not needed right now since the barber was already out and giving his current customer a shave and noticed Celestia going through the door in the first place. The barber was an older man wearing a white outfit, his hair graying and in one hand he held a straight razor. The customer was a younger fellow with curly orange hair, barely out of his teens if that, he was looking at her curiously in a way that was just past the point of being innocent. The shave he was going through was only half done—half the boy’s face was clean and smooth as a baby’s and the other half still covered in cream.

“Something I can do for you miss?” The barber asked her. “If’n you need a cut I can-”

Celestia held up a hand to silence him. “Nothing like that, and you can get back to your customer in a second, I just have something I want to ask you.”

The barber glanced down at his customer for a moment, he seemed a little wary of the strange lady who had walked in from the street but then Celestia couldn’t blame him for that. He straightened up and closed his straight razor before replying to her. “Yeah?”

“I need to ask you if you’ve seen any lone women walk through town fairly recently—within the last couple of weeks at most. She’d be fairly tall, almost my height, but with dark hair and carrying a single gun. And she would’ve been riding a midnight black horse as well. Does that sound familiar to you? Either of you?” Celestia asked them.

The barber scratched his head, thinking, while the customer just keep staring at her with a suspicious look.

“I can’t say a woman like that rings any bells… we get some travelers but they usually aint alone,” the barber said.

Celestia exhaled through her nose and reached down her shirt to pull out the necklace and show off her medallion. “So you haven’t seen anything like this except as a moon then?”

Both barber and customer were shocked at the sight of the incredibly valuable trinket, with the barber finding his manners first and answering. “N-No, ma’am. I definitely aint ever seen something like that.”

The youth just looked at her medallion with his mouth slightly open. Celestia could tell that his curiosity was truly directed not to her body but to things like her earrings, guns, and the other valuable clothes she wore. And now most of all towards her sun medallion.

“What about you, kid? You seen anything?” Celestia asked him, holding the medallion a little lower.

His eyes flicked to hers and his mouth closed shut. Shrugging slightly he just innocently shook his head and acted like he hadn’t just been ogling her jewelry like a snake.

“Right,” Celestia sighed and put the medallion back down her shirt. “Thank you for your help.”

The barber nodded and Celestia turned to leave. Pulling open the door she could see the reflection of the boy in the front window of the shop, his eyes were still trained on her even as she left the building and started walking away. She was willing to bet that even as she passed the corner and the barber got back to finishing his shave he was still looking to where she had gone. Kids got dumb ideas. Almost as much as adults. Celestia minutely shook her head and walked on back up the dirt street in search of her next destination, and the next one, and the next one, since she wasn’t feeling confident that anyone here was going to know anything.

Eventually the ranch on the north side of town would be her last stop. That rancher was likely one of the wealthier—if not the wealthiest—people in town and he probably knew a lot of the going ons of Flintlock. But she also wanted to stop at the local saloon, bank, and gunsmith, along with maybe a general store or two and wherever there was a stable where you could keep your horse for the night. Besides those stops she wanted to simply walk around town and see if she could find anything like that. Maybe stop by some of the homes on the outskirts of town, the ones that would have a good view of anybody coming in or leaving town from the roads, and ask them too.

She was going to do a thorough job before she left Flintlock. So long as nothing troubled her.

The saloon happened to be the next building she found, on main street just like her hotel but down a little east of it. Despite the hotel itself having a bar and tables of its own for folks to play cards at she wasn’t surprised an independent saloon existed too. Rowdier, louder, a place where locals were more likely to go and not just passer-throughs or temporary residents. A place probably where those of ill-repute may have been a little more welcome and the unseemly business that a hotel looking to put on a nice face didn’t want to share in.

When she made it there Celestia pushed her way past the double saloon doors and let them swing back and forth on their hinges until stopping. Her entrance had drawn a lot of attention again, just like when she arrived at the hotel. Gamblers, drunks, ladies of the night, and folks just having a good time looked back at the out of place stranger with her flawless clothes and the earrings and other valuable accessories that were visible. Celestia didn’t acknowledge the stares at all. Like the attention was beneath her notice she copied what she had done back at the hotel and moseyed over to the bar, taking a seat in front of the bartender.

“Excuse me, but can I ask you a few questions?”

It had turned out that Spitfire’s warning was expectedly prescient. Later that day, when Celestia was getting ready to turn back to her hotel and pay for the second night, a young man with curly orange hair ran down the streets of Flintlock to the trading post owned by his older brother. He had been checking out and asking around about a certain stranger from out of town and was now very excited to share the news with his big bro.

“Hey! Hey bro!” Slick Deal said as he ran into the store filled up with all manner of goods. “Bro you aint gonna believe what I’ve got to tell you!”

Behind the counter there was another young man maybe just in his mid-twenties with a bit of stubble around his chin and a hat pulled down over his face. Raw Deal had been sleeping in his chair with his legs up on the store’s counter when his little brother had run in here hollering. He frowned and tilted up his hat with one finger to look at his brother. “Yeah?”

“We’re gonna want to get the whole gang together for this one, some rich lady came in from out of town and you wouldn’t believe the stuff she’s got on her! I’m telling ya the clothes and jewelry she’s wearing altogether would go for a thousand bits!” Slick said as he walked forward and slammed his hands down on the counter.

Raw Deal slowly grinned as he woke up and put his hat back on top of his head. “Well aint that a treat. And she’s alone?”

“Oh yeah, been making sure of it,” Slick nodded with a hungry grin. “She don’t be having anyone else around with her. She’s got some real expensive looking guns on her though and I saw her at the barber’s, those eyes looked feisty to me.”

“That why you think we should get all the gang, huh?”

“Yeah, she be a dangerous one, I can tell.” Slick Deal nodded. “But we just take her on smart and no one has to get hurt or nothing, she’s just a lady, she’ll put down her guns when we’ve got her outnumbered and all. Then you can fence everything, just like always.”

Raw Deal took a look around the trading post, most of the more valuable goods that had come through here had been stolen by either him or his gang and in the first place the post had been acquired through strong-arming and threats. One of their guys, Weaver, even had prostitutes working for him that fleeced their customers and would bring their stuff here. It was a nice thing they had going in Flintlock. And Raw Deal loved the thought of getting even wealthier with the stuff this lady was supposedly carrying with her.

“She’s real pretty too,” Slick said.

“Yeah?” Raw Deal sat up, a sick look now in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, bro. She’s tall and got these right long legs that’ll just… mhm.” Slick Deal hummed in pleasure.

“Well that’s another good reason to find this lady then. Maybe Weaver can bring her on board with us too,” he chuckled and stood up. “Alright we best get the word out to everyone today and then we’ll ambush the little lady tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll do it right so she aint got any choices.”

Raw Deal leaned over to pull open a drawer at the bottom of the counter and took out a half-empty bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. With a grin he filled them both up, spilling some of the brown liquid onto the wood, and slid one of the small glasses over to his brother before grabbing the other one and bringing it to his lips. “Here’s a toast to some hard-earned money, little bro.”

“I’ll drink to that, big bro.” Slick Deal grinned and the two downed their shots, Slick enjoying the good feeling of the whiskey’s burn and slamming the shot glass back down on the counter.

“Heh,” Raw chuckled and pulled open another drawer in the counter to draw out a key. Walking over to a tall wooden case placed against the back wall he unlocked it and opened it up to reveal a collection of rifles carefully standing inside and a set of holstered pistols hanging on the insides of the doors. He grabbed one of the pistols for himself and equipped it while reaching in for one of the rifles and handing it to his brother. “Let’s all go and tell the others now, tomorrow we’ll watch her and find a good time and place to have a nice little talk with the pretty lady.”

The trading outpost was emptied and locked up for the night with the two brothers going around Flintlock to get their gang together and plan on how to get the money they wanted from their mark. And maybe do a little bit more to the lady from out of town.

Spitfire was in a sour mood the next day. Sour enough where she decided to go get a drink in the middle of the day even when she should be back at Pecan Sandy’s farm. Being disregarded like that, being ignored, it was damn infuriating for her. With her quickdraw skills she should’ve been a legend that anyone would’ve wanted to have on their good side. Yet she had to deal with this kind of bullshit. Her mind was made up, she wasn’t going to be staying in Flintlock for long regardless of what else that lady from out of town was doing. She needed to test this gun of hers, needed more opportunity to use it against someone who could use a gun on the same level as her. Scaring off yokels and thieves wasn’t the kind of life she wanted to lead.

So here she was walking across a street a little north of the main road after finishing her drink, walking along the sides of the buildings and lazily dragging her fingers across them. Was she even gonna bother going back and telling Pecan Sandy that she was leaving soon? Naw, to hell with the whole thing. Spitfire wasn’t sure if she’d be leaving as early as tonight cause she wanted to see what that stranger was going to do, but she’d already mentally checked out of Flintlock. Tonight she’d get sloshed at the hotel and that was it.

In a second more of wandering down the street, she saw something that caught her eye and made her pause next to Silky’s Fabric Store. A few people she recognized had gathered and were walking towards the general store at the corner of a street that branched off from this one and went north. They weren’t people she was particularly fond of either.

“Raw Deal and those other morons,” Spitfire narrowed her eyes at them. “What are they up to?”

She had had run ins with them before. The greasy one called Weaver had tried to convince her to join his little circle of whores. He was lucky she didn’t put a bullet between his eyes for that. Another one was a drunken idiot by the name of Iron Sights. An older fellow, he had made the mistake of pinching Spitfire’s butt once at the saloon—his arm was in a sling for a week after that. Just like with Weaver, Spitfire considered him lucky. The rest of Raw Deal’s whole “gang” was the same; thugs and slackjaws who didn’t give a shit about anything but money and tail.

The only one she didn’t see was Raw Deal’s dumb little brother, Slick Deal. Where was he?

A flash of light from far across the street and on top of one of the buildings provided the answer to that question. Spitfire had to squint a little but she saw Slick Deal up on top of some old store’s roof with a rifle in his hands. The sun had reflected off it, but what was he doing up there in the first place? What the hell were any of them doing? Spitfire saw a number of other townsfolk watching, including ones who had been walking down the street but quickly found something better to do. With a look behind her she saw that Silky was also peering out from her store’s window. Everyone was just as curious as she was about what was going on.

Spitfire looked over to the general store to see if there was anything going on at it. There must be a reason why the whole gang was heading towards it. And upon seeing a certain someone walk out of it onto the deck, a grin split across her face.

“Well, well, well, so it’s like that is it?” Spitfire couldn’t stop herself from grinning maliciously at the sight of that tall lady suddenly coming out of a store only to be confronted by seven bastards with an eighth across the street training a rifle on her. This is what she knew was going to happen at some point or another and she didn’t feel bad for that disrespectful gal at all. Spitfire had offered to help her, she and others had warned her, and look what situation she had just gotten herself into? Spitfire knew that the lady was good with those guns but even she—the fastest gun in Equestria—wouldn’t be able to do something in the same situation that lady was in. No one could out-shoot seven other people at close range and with an eighth having a bead on them from a distance. Raw Deal and his gang had thought things through just like they needed to. The lady had no real cover, no allies, and was plainly outnumbered and outgunned. You reap what you sow, and Spitfire was going to gladly lean back, fold her arms over her chest, and watch what happened.

Celestia held back a sigh as she turned away from the clerk at the large general store. He didn’t know anything either. She was beginning to think it would just be better to leave town now and not bother checking the rest of the places she had planned to. Didn’t seem like a point. The looks of so many others in the store, even some peeking over shelves to see her, were starting to get tiresome too. They aint never seen a stranger blow in with the tumbleweeds? Small towns needed all the amusement they could get it seemed.

She pulled open the door and stepped out onto the deck with the wood clunking underneath her boots. Getting a bad feeling at the street being quieter than it should be she tilted up her hat and looked to see a number of people facing her down in the middle of the dirt road. All of them carrying weapons of some sort or another and all of them with that grungy and nasty look that said they would have no problem using them. She paused, not showing anything on her face. One of the fellows looked slightly familiar—he looked like that kid she had seen in the barbershop, only a little older and more rugged. Her eyes then caught something else; on the roof of the building across the street there was someone already aiming a rifle at her. That very same kid.

Not unexpected really. She had figured someone would try robbing her at some point though she didn’t expect to just get faced down like this, she was expecting someone to try coming from behind and putting a pistol against her back. Either way she was unperturbed. Nothing scared her and nothing could make her lose her cool.

And she sure as hell didn’t open her mouth. She’d let them flap their gums and speak first if they were so damn interested in her that they’d pull this off.

Well it didn’t take long at all for Raw Deal to open up his mouth to jabber and say hello.

“Hey there, Missy,” he said with an easy smile and a devious glint in his eyes. “Me and the boys here have heard an awful lot about you in the past day.”

Celestia didn’t do anything more than stare at him as the breeze blew by and the sun flew over. It grated on his nerves a little bit but he still kept his smile up.

“And so I’m pretty sure you can tell why we’re here and just what it is we’re looking for. Still got that fancy golden necklace, do ya?” Raw Deal asked, licking his chapped lips.

She finally deigned to give a curt response to him and the other ruffians. “And if I do?”

Raw Deal’s oily smile widened and he looked left and right to his gang members, the rest of them giving smiles and quick laughs back. One of them held a shotgun at his hip, another a rifle over his shoulder, the rest had pistols—some holstered and some unholstered—with Raw Deal himself having his pistol on his right hip, ready for him to draw it.

“Well me and my buddies were thinking its real dangerous for a pretty lady like you, all alone and that, to carry something so dang valuable. You could really attract the wrong sort, you know?” He thumbed the butt of his pistol. “So we was thinking why don’t we take that necklace off your hands. And those earrings too. And hey—if we’re taking care of you you probably don’t need the guns either.”

Instead of responding verbally Celestia just crossed her arms over her chest and stood there, unimpressed. She knew her lack of a response was pissing him off.

Raw Deal chuckled a little and then spat on the ground. “That doesn’t sound like a good deal?”

“She’s got boots that are a little nicer than what she needs too,” the shotgun wielder said, grinning lewdly at Celestia.

“Yeah, yeah she does,” Raw Deal agreed. “So what do you say miss? You can get rid of all that stuff burdening you and just let us take care of you. In fact we could have all sorts of fun together, my pal Weaver here knows some other ladies who’d love to take you in and have you learn their trade too by the way.”

“Sure do,” the rifle holder—Weaver—nodded.

“Sounds like it’s settled to me,” Raw Deal shrugged and held out his hands. “Now you don’t have to worry about nothing, just come with us and we’ll treat you real good.”

“Better than good,” the shotgun-wielder blew her a kiss.

Celestia looked across the seven of them and then briefly back at the young man on the roof. She then unfolded her arms and let her hands drop to her sides while she inhaled through her nose and then exhaled, taking her time to respond.

“I’m going to give all of you the chance to go away and leave me alone right now.”

Raucous laughter erupted from six of the would-be-gangsters in the street. Only Raw Deal stayed quiet, the smile still on his face but now devoid of even any faux-friendliness and hospitality. His eyes were cold and he was dead tired of her not taking him seriously. Slick Deal back on the roof was still looking out for a signal to just shoot her already.

“She’s got some spunk, I really like em feisty!” One of Raw Deal’s gang members said.

Raw Deal looked back at him with a grin. “You do?” His grin flattened. “Cause I don’t. I like gals who do exactly what they’re told.” He looked back to Celestia with a frown etched on his face. “Lady, maybe you don’t really seem to grasp the situation, but my little bro has you dead to rights and there’s seven of us down here and only one of you. You aint running and you aint shooting your way out of this. So why don’t you talk instead and try to get on my good side as much as possible, cause I really wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours or do anything worse. That’s just a waste of money right there.”

The lady from out of town reached up and tilted back her hat so no shadows crossed her face and looked at him plainly. “I’m not giving you anything.”

This time there wasn’t any laughter or jeers from the others, they didn’t make any sort of inappropriate comment or implication and the carefree smiles had left their faces. The mood had become much less jovial because they could all tell that Raw Deal was just about at the end of his short fuse. With how quiet things had gotten here between them they could hear the sound of a horse neighing off in the distance and the sound of a cow’s moos from the ranch to the north.

Raw Deal chewed his lip and rolled his tongue over his teeth as he silently regarded the tall lady. Her lack of fear and the confident way she held herself were bothering him. Didn’t make him afraid or anything like that, he was just pissed that she wasn’t respecting him and doing the smart thing. She have a death wish? Having two pistols at her hips wouldn’t change anything especially since his brother could pull the trigger on his rifle before she even drew them. And yet here they were in this quiet standoff with her acting like she was giving them the chance to survive. As if they could just walk away with their tails in-between their legs, with half the damn town watching from their windows.

He looked to his right and left where six of his fellow stood and gave them a knowing look each. The guys were ready to blow this lady away at a moment’s notice. Looking over his shoulder he caught Slick looking at him too. Everyone was prepared. This lady’s empty threats and confidence weren’t going to frighten them off, they had this won from the beginning. Still though, he wanted to get her to admit that, and didn’t want to kill her and lose such a good source of money a beauty like her could be.

“Uh, Miss? I think you oughta be reconsidering your words. Specially with how kind and patient I’ve been,” Raw Deal started. “Now looky, uh, I got no problem whatsoever with filling you full of lead, but frankly I’d like to avoid that if possible. So here’s my deal, you take off that necklace, those earrings, and those guns, and you just set them down on the deck and walk away. How about that?”

It was a lie, they wouldn’t just leave her alone when she was defenseless, not when they had gotten certain ideas in their heads already. Not when the clothes on her back were more valuable than most of the stuff back at his trading post. But what was that old saying? You caught more flies with honey than vinegar?

Celestia breathed out a single small breath, she reached up her left hand to lightly thumb across the part of her necklace visible around her neck before dropping it and looking away as if ignoring Raw Deal and the others entirely.

“This is your last chance to turn around,” she told them.

Raw Deal stood there for a moment, staring her down while she still looked away, and he clicked his tongue. “Well boys, you heard her.”

It was all silence again as half of the group already had their guns out and just needed to lift them. Slick Deal just needed to see any sort of aggressive movement from the lady and she’d have a bullet in the head. Raw glanced down at his own pistol and then at the two the lady had, her hands hanging loosely at her side. Another sick grin formed on his face.

“Sorry it turned out this way, lady, but-” he grabbed his gun and cocked the hammer back while pulling it from the holster.

A rapport of gunshots rang out on the street. Deafening. Terrifying. Despite the may as well be lawless nature of Flintlock it wasn’t a sound the people of it heard much of. The noise almost didn’t seem real. How many shots had there even been? It all happened so fast.

So fast that Raw Deal didn’t have time to blink, not until it was over and silence reigned again. The grin slowly dropped from his face as he heard his buddies collapsing to the ground around him, saw Weaver fall forward with a hole in the back of his head and blood pouring out of it. Looked over his shoulder just in time to see his little brother slumping over the roof and falling off the side to the ground.

His eyes looked back at the lady as she reholstered her two pistols and a warm feeling started to spread across his chest.

Raw Deal tilted his face down to see a red bullet hole in his shirt right on his heart. Blood was quickly spreading from it, the warm sensation shortly giving way to a numb coldness.

“Huh...” he said and slumped over dead with the rest of his gang.

Celestia checked her holstered guns before looking at the bodies in front of her and sighed, shaking her head. “Guess I’ll be leaving town now.”

Spitfire was the only one besides the shooter herself who knew how many shots there had been. Eight. Exactly eight. One bullet apiece and every last one of them were dead on kill shots. She watched with her mouth slightly open and her throat dry, her eyes were wide after just having witnessed that. The speed she drew and fired, the accuracy, not even Spitfire could shoot like that. She felt something in her right hand and looked down to see that it was shaking, her trigger finger twitching. If it was excitement or fear she couldn’t tell but Spitfire knew what she had to do now.

She watched as the stranger walked off the deck and onto the dirt road, walking around the dead bodies of Raw Deal and his gang, and headed opposite from the direction Spitfire had been going in. It looked like she was walking down the street and was heading in the direction of where she’d be able to get back to the main road. Probably going back to the hotel if she had anything left there, or maybe just getting back on the road she knew for sure went out of town.

Wherever she was going she either didn’t notice or didn’t care to acknowledge seeing Spitfire also there on the street. The stranger walked well past her while Spitfire stood watching her every step, her fingers hovering over her gun. This was what she had wanted, this was what Spitfire was looking for. Maybe it was stupid and maybe she had lost her damn mind but Spitfire couldn’t deny how itchy her trigger finger was after seeing that tall lady gun down all of those bastards.

It spoke to her heart’s desire: to be quicker on the draw than anybody.

And it reminded her that she only really felt alive when facing down another gunslinger who could challenge her speed.

So Spitfire walked out into the middle of the road while others in town had started coming out of their homes and businesses to see the aftermath of what had just happened. She quickly ran after the lady and stopped ten paces behind her, spreading her feet and holding her hands at her sides with a tough glare on her face. Her trusty gun was ready to be drawn and fired once again.

“Hey! I’m calling you out, stranger! You recognize my voice, don’t you?” Spitfire yelled at the lady’s back.

She just kept walking, showing the same lack of regard for Spitfire as Raw Deal.

“I’m saying we’re gonna duel, damn you! You too much of a coward to turn and face me?!” Spitfire tried to egg her on. “You yellow? Don’t got the nerves to face off with a real gunslinger?”

She gave her that same little wave that she had given yesterday morning. Which made Spitfire angry something fierce.

“I’ll shoot you in the back you hear me! If you don’t turn around and draw then you’re dead!”

That made the lady pause in her steps. Spitfire grinned, she wasn’t letting this opportunity slip away and she was tired of being disrespected. If she had to threaten that to get her duel then so be it. Slowly the lady turned around with a frown and a cold expression on her face—twenty paces away. Spitfire stood up straight and took a gander at the revolvers the lady had holstered, bullets still in both of them and her own was loaded too.

“We draw on the count of ten. That alright with you?” Spitfire asked.

The lady nodded.

“Good,” Spitfire licked her lips and cracked the knuckles on her right hand. There were others out watching them now, even more perfect. “One.”

She remembered the first time she had picked up a gun. Years ago now when she was just a kid, her first practice shot went wide and Grand Pear had to steady the gun for her until she got it right. Even then she had to reload before she finally hit the empty can of beans. She got a pat on the head for that. Once she was able to hold it right and could shoot like normal she became his apprentice in the way of gunslinging for real.

“Two.”

When she first killed someone it almost didn’t feel real at first. They just fell over backwards. But she remembered the thrill of it afterwards when she realized what she had done, how he had tried drawing on her but she beat him to it. Grand Pear was proud of her after that. The man she killed was a drunk who didn’t expect Spitfire to be able to shoot as good as she could. She always liked proving others wrong about her after that.

“Three.”

He had taught her how to draw perfectly. It wasn’t just about quick reactions it was about the way you pulled the gun out of the holster, the form you used. She had gotten better and better over the years. Not just faster but more accurate, cause pulling your gun out didn’t mean shit if you missed your first shot and gave your opponent the opportunity to shoot you. You had to draw and shoot them before they could take out and aim their pistol at you.

“Four.”

Most of her duels didn’t happen like this, typically some asshole would start something in a bar or try and ambush her and she’d gun em down. Lots of times there were bullets flying all over and it wouldn’t even really be about who could draw the fastest. She’d win through scrappiness. Rarely did she find herself facing off with someone and counting to ten, everything fair and square.

“Five.”

How many people had she killed now? How many had she outdrawn? She only kept track of the ones who were decently skilled themselves. Grand Pear’s old rival, Granddaddy McColt, had trained a protege by the name of Soarin. He was the first one Spitfire had killed that was just as skilled as she was, except she was still a bit faster and that’s why she was still alive now. That was back when she was only sixteen.

“Six.”

Fleetfoot had been a rival she met while at a skillshot competition. On the accuracy shooting they went dead even until the final round, where Spitfire scored a little higher. After that they met again and again, challenging each other, sometimes Fleetfoot would even win too, she could draw just as fast as Spitfire and shoot just as good. One time they even helped each other survive against a band of outlaws that had tracked the both of them down.

“Seven.”

It got to a point where they finally had to settle things for good. Spitfire knew she’d have to make a draw quicker than any she had before in her life to make sure she’d win. She practiced the night before the duel on shooting quicker the moment the barrel left the holster. Almost like she was flicking the gun out and firing it instead of raising it like normal.

“Eight.”

And when it came she was so smooth her hand might as well have been lightning. Fleetfoot was dead on the ground and Spitfire held the trusty smoking gun Grand Pear had given her as a gift at the end of her apprenticeship. That was the last time she had felt alive.

“Nine!”

Until now.

“Ten!” Spitfire called and drew her gun and fired it all at once. It was a perfect draw, as fast and fluid as the time she had killed Fleetfoot. Aimed right at the center of the lady’s chest—she almost didn’t see her own movements because of the speed.

It was just a single gunshot that had rang out down the street and Spitfire smiled as she waited to see the lady fall over dead.

Only she didn’t fall. And there was something red dripping out around the trigger of her gun and down her hand. Spitfire blinked in confusion and turned Grand Pear’s old gun to look at it.

Her trigger finger was missing. There was nothing there inside the trigger guard to pull the thing and fire it. The gun fell out of her hand and onto the ground while she looked at the bloody stump of her finger as more blood spurted from it. She felt lightheaded, her face suddenly pale as the symptoms of shock started invading her body.

Where’s my finger? She thought with her mind still in a lost daze. Looking down at her feet she finally saw it in the dirt, directly below her holster.

When her eyes went back up at the lady she saw the revolver casually in her right hand that she then flipped around and put back in its holster. The stranger sighed and turned around, walking off back to where she had been going in the first place.

Spitfire trembled as she gripped her shaking right hand, still in shock, and fell down onto her butt. She looked at the disfigurement with a crazed grin and sweat from pure disbelief and the sudden drop in blood pressure dripping down her face. Clarity and realization of what had just happened finally hit Spitfire while blood poured over both her hands. “I’ll be damned...”

And so she could only watch as the lady who had effortlessly bested her in a duel walked away until she disappeared down the street.

The lady blew out of town with the tumbleweeds the same way she had come in. A little family farm was on the east end by the road leading out of Flintlock, the mother out in the back throwing clothes up on a clothesline while her young son took care of feeding their chickens. She gave it no more than a single glance as she walked past it. The sun was beating down something fierce already so the lady tugged the brim of her hat low to keep her face shadowed. In the distance a coyote howled and buzzards in the sky circled over something, getting ready to fly down and enjoy a meal. Her boots carried her onto the dirt road that seemed to stretch endlessly into the countryside, resuming her journey of walking for days with nothing by her side to keep her company but her guns.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the story.