𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 : 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄.

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you attract: HUNGER

hasty fingers that run down your back as their lips make contact against your skin; feeling lightheaded as traces of "i love you"s make their way down your body; breathing in sensation and breathing out fear. you attract hunger. you are afraid of the unknown, so you dive straight into it. you fear the feeling of being alone, so you seek out those who give you ease and love and thrill even if it may not be the thing that you need. give yourself a moment to breathe, my dear. you still have more to explore. once hunger is quenched, you're allowed to stay. don't feel the rush of leaving. the adrenaline you get from running away won't ever substitute for happiness. you are deserving of love, always. let yourself get it.

Recklessly, like a horse running as fast as he can. You’ve been told that the way you love can never last, and that heartbreak is inevitable. But you don’t want to love carefully. You want to love with reckless abandon. You want to love with everything you have, and you want to be loved the same way. You don’t want them to worry about tomorrow. Make today worth living for.

The Bounty Hunter steps from cover, hands raised in mock surrender. Dark eyes widen in confirmation and she can’t tell if she actually murmured her surprise. A smile softens her features considerably, ’ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞. 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭. ’ Soka whistles for her horse and sheathes her bow and rifle on the saddle, ’ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞. 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐮𝐩. ’

        She is nervous. There is little doubt that she would see it in the tremble of her hand, and she knows that should she need to use her gun, she would likely not be as good of a shot as this bounty hunter. There were a few who had come for her before, but they had been stupid and had not considered that she was lightning quick where it counted and knew the lay of the land better than most had expected. 

        Something tells her that that would not be the case here. Mattie’s not sure if the roar in her ears is from the race of her heartbeat or the push of an anger river over the rocks that part it. “I do not know that for sure, and I would be an idiot if I took you on your word alone.”

@abhailiu​ / antonietta

“maybe  he  doesn’t  like  us.”

=================

‘When it matters’…to Samuel’s mind it matters a hell of a lot more frequently than the loquacious Miss Ross judges it to, still he is not going to debate the matter with her, he’s already learned that this child clearly has an answer for everything.

He watches as she stands beside the tree, stretching out her back in a way that suggests to him she is in some kind of pain.

“Ain’t you never ridden a pony for more than an hour?” He laughs in disbelief, and while he does not intend for it to sound cruel or mocking, there is still a hint of it because thus far Mattie has made him feel like the less worldly of the two, despite the decades between them.

Standing up with a huff, he grabs her wrist and roughly tugs her forward.

“Christ almighty…come here.”

Now standing on flat ground, he releases his grip and immediately encourages her to copy his movements. “Arms up, right to the sky, reach ‘em up then out then bend and try n’ touch your toes…like this.”

Amusingly, when trying to touch his toes, Sam staggers to the side, but it’s only the liquor and his still uncured hangover that causes the imbalance.

“Now sit on the ground, cross your legs and crawl forward with your hands until you feel like somethin’s gonna give, gonna pop.”

A rough instruction but one Sam knows will help to stretch out the youngers back.

“Then go fill up this canteen at the river.”

This, of course, isn’t part of the lesson, Sam’s just feeling lazy and needs a drink of something other than gut-rot whiskey.

       Somewhere, underneath the huffing and the stretching, Mattie can hear her mother’s scold in her mind’s eye. Her voice had a habit of going with her no matter how far she ventured from home, and on this occasion it was tutting and nagging about how a girl her age ought to not have many aches and pains. Mother hadn’t spent much time in a saddle as far as she knew, and she found herself thinking that like it would chase the judgement from it.

         “I have never had to before. I have ridden on the back of a donkey for a few short minutes, but never for hours on end.”

       There had never been much need of it either. She helped her mother where she could and what she hadn’t spent with her had been spent handling her father’s books and finances. She was very good with numbers and knew her way around a word or two, unbeknownst to her at the chagrin of any who came across her. When he tugs, Mattie has little choice but to follow.

       For a long moment, she watches him with amusement. She would feel silly if she tried it, but with it only being the two of them this far outside of civilisation, she decides to trust his judgement. When she reaches her arms up, she feels the bones between her shoulders crack, and when she stoops to bend, her lower back does too. It provides a little relief from its ache. It helps enough that she moves to do the final position. She will not be sure that it’s worked until she stands up.

          Anne never would have expected that she would have someone cook for her. Sure, Pearson tried his hand at a stew and sometimes it was palatable, but there was nothing quite like being in her own home and finding that there was nothing for her to really do. She is not used to having idle hands, so once the fire was stoked and the little kitchen was slowly chasing away the autumn chill from the room, she’d reached for the two knitting needles and bundle of yarn she’d been trying to figure out over the past few weeks. With the evenings having been quiet, Anne had found that she was learning rather quickly. Her work was no longer littered with little holes, and while the stitching was uneven in places, it was something she was growing proud of. It would be a useful thing when her son got older and he found himself in need for a few extra hats or scarves.

        The air in the kitchen is comfortable. There is chatter and there is laughter, and when Sokanon tells her that it’ll be ready soon, she moves to set the table. Plates, forks, knives, and a large jug of water for the middle of the table. Company and food was proving to be one of her favourite things, and Anne laments the fact that she hadn’t known that Sokanon would be returning, so she had been unable to make her a pie this evening. Tomorrow, she thinks to herself, she will head into town and fetch some apples for one. A part of her hopes that she will stay for a while.

          When it comes time to settle at the table, Anne is almost drooling. After having cleaned their little abode as best she could, Anne had taken to the garden to weed, to tend to the horse and, of course, a brief and very unplanned nap when she’d intended on just having a little sit down. Such were the ways of life nowadays. “This smells amazin’,” Anne says, and moves to reach for the jug to pour them both something to drink. “If I’d known you were gonna be back, I’d of made you somethin’ sweet-!”

❛ more than a few, ❜ he remarked, though a semblance of solemn marred his tone despite his expression suggesting otherwise. There were a great deal of tales Gannicus could share, though all linked to memories he could not claim to be proud of. His exploits in the arena had become legendary, though something festered beneath his breast which caused him pause at being proud of them, ❛ you stand familiar with the games? ❜

 The question had been posed casually, as Gannicus held his cup of wine to his lips, embracing what refreshment it offered and subtle dulling of keen mind.  He could not tell from looks alone whether she had ever partaken in the fury of the crowd. However, although she stood no frequent resident to Capua, the Romans were not ones to bound their greatest pleasures to one place. 

       In the short time Anne had been on this unfamiliar soil, she hadn’t gotten to visit the arena. The thought of it left a bitter taste in her mouth, and despite the fact that, disguised as she normally was, she might’ve been able to slip in on a “lad’s curiosity” for bloodshed. No, she has always believed in the freedom to come and go as one pleased. “I’ve heard of them,” she replies, moving to lean back in her chair with an arm draped over it’s back.

          Had anyone asked Winifred before they’d met, she would have insisted that she loved the freedom of an empty bed. There was room enough for her to toss and turn as she tends to do in her sleep, and upon waking she could stretch as widely as she wished without the worry that she would accidentally hit whoever was beside her in her sleep. That had been before she’d known what it was to be so in love with someone that it hurt to part from them, and when he’d taken to spending the night with her, she couldn’t have been happier. He is warm enough that she can feel him through her nightshirt, and with winter nipping at her toes even underneath the blankets, she couldn’t be more thankful for it. Winifred doesn’t stretch for fear of waking him before he was ready. There would come a point where she would need to unwrap herself from his arms, and each morning it felt like it came too quickly. Lazy mornings were few and far between, so in this moment she basks in it.

        When she pulls her feet up and slips them between his ankles, she can feel him inhale from somewhere near her shoulder blades and the hand around her middle pulls her close enough to bring her flush against him, and when he rolls his hips lazily against her backside, she finds herself quickly aware that it isn’t just her waking with the sun. Winifred would never deny him, and pushes back into him with a sleepy sigh. There would never come a time when she would cease to want him, and just as that thought cut through her tiredness, the hand at her belly snuck right up to her chest to squeeze though her nightshirt. Her body reacts in kind, coupled with the cold and touch against them, a flash of heat pools in her belly.