#dakctadude

Whether Dakota was working or he was spending some downtime to recline & relax, a certain twinkling dame has slithered into his office. There’s no proper greeting, but there is .. something. Twirling a velvet-wrapped stick in hand, Jessica flashes two different masks at the lawmoo --- first, one that is vibrant and red ; smiling and blushing with rubies dappling its cheeks! and the other, blue and sorrowful ; frowning and with gold glitter tears at its eye corners. 

@dakctadude

“Merry Christmas Mr. Duckota!” The little doll cheered as she stood on her toes to present the gift box she had for him. It was rather large, almost as big as her, and it was a miracle she was actually carrying it all by herself. Maybe it was a lot lighter then it looked?

Inside the childishly wrapped present was...a cowboy hat. How original.

Actually, it was pretty original, considering it was decorated with various, shiny objects! Tinsel was wrapped all around the brim, rhinestones and fake gems  dotted the surface, and fake daisies were sewn into the fabric as a finishing touch.

Send Me A Symbol For A (Fluffy) Starter! || @bluesmuses / @dakctadude! Send me “®“ for your muse to hug mine

“Dangnabbit, Deputy!” If there’s any wannabe rival for Dakota in this town, it’s Yosemite Sam with his tiny temper and sour indigestion for all things law related. Sometimes just being in the lawcow’s presence gave the gunslinger heartburn! Not to say the feeling is mutual, but that doesn’t stop ole Yosemite from getting up in the poor moo’s business in all attempts to chase him off or start some sort of inappropriate confrontation. “Ya ain’t got noooo business bein’ on this set - they ain’t called for you yet! It’s my turn! GIT!”

The ten galon hat of the piping hot gunslinger is shoved down promptly over his eyes, leading to the spurrs on his heels jingling frantically as he hops around trying to free himself - muffled screaming all the way. His assassin? Another familiar redhead, decked to the nines as a saloon gal: Jessica. 

The pup’s lips pursed tight, not daring to edge away from the protective shelter of Night Terror’s shadow. In all honesty, the great black stallion’s presence had been the one thing to offer him a sense of security since he had made a break from his master’s. Terror seemed to trust him and he trusted Terror. He was large and imposing enough to deter strangers, so Cricket kept close both night and day. And if all else failed, Night Terror could run like a bullet.

Blue eyes widened - a mix of intimidation and admiration - at the approach of the other horse. Night Terror shifted at the new presence, one silver-feathered hoof giving a suspicious stomp. Cricket pet his nose, glancing back up towards Dakota at the inquiry.

“Night--”

Wait..... Bad move. His master was a wanted bear with a high price on his head. And this cow was clearly a lawman. There were doubtless folk out there that knew the name of his mount as well.

Clementine stayed under her bed, not knowing how much time has passed already. Her face was damp with tears, and her body was beginning to feel uncomfortable from being crouched and balled up for so long. The worst of her crying was over, only leaving sniffles and whimpers in their wake. The exhaustion of crying so much was starting to overcome her, and she slowly closed her eyes to give herself a few minutes of rest…

The sudden voice made the child jump, banging her head against the roof of her bed and startling her. She wasn’t hurt, just very surprised and awake at the realization that someone was behind her door. Without even thinking, mind running off pure panic, she yelled out in a frightened voice, “No one’s home!”

Immediately, a hand let go of the box to cover her mouth, horrified at her volume and slight anger that entered her shouting. What kind of stupid answer was that? No one’s home?! Is that all she could think of?!

    “… That’s a good thought, darlin’, but I’m afraid it’s really hard for anybody to love everybody. And that’s not.. exactly bad. Part of freedom is bein’ able to have differences of opinion and associatin’ or not associatin’ with people you do or don’t want to,” the bull quietly replied, gently rubbing one of her cheeks with a thumb.

   “Makin’ clubs against specific people though is purdy immature, but I’m afraid that’s how some people are. They’ll git it outta their system in a few days…” At least, he hopes so. If violence occurs, then he’s suppose to get involved.

Clementine didn’t react to the cheek rubbing like she usually would. She just continued to sit there, her gaze glued to the tiny hands clasped in her lap. She really wasn’t sure how to take Dakota’s reasoning. She wanted to agree with him, mostly because she knew what he was saying was true.

But...at the same time...

She finally looked up to the law cow, a desperate emotion written on her face. She almost looked like she was about to cry, but was forcing herself to hold it in. When she spoke, her speech quickened with each word, panic seeping in as she slowly began to realize what she was saying.

“...Are you sure? They’re not gonna hurt anyone, right? They’re not gonna get more people to join them, right? They’re not gonna throw people in jail and then yell at them and then take them from their homes and say they have to go with them and you’ll never see them again, they’re not gonna do that right?! People don’t do that anymore, RIGHT?!”

She didn’t mean to shout the last part, and the doll quickly covered her mouth with both hands, trembling a little as she tried to compose herself. Her eyes were welling up with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Clementine didn’t want to start crying in front of Dakota. Not right now.

“What do you have against that Genki guy? Sure he is a little screwed up in the head, but as long as he is causing harm to the humans....does it really matter if he kills a few people?”