Name

Aspasia E. Winters

Nickname(s)

Aspi, Aspen

Age

26

Birthdate

December 5th

Zodiac

Sagittarius

Sexuality

Closeted lesbian

Appearance

creds to Lunevani on picrew

One of the first noticeable thing about Aspasia is her height. She stands at 5'10, nearing 5'11. She has a very feminine build, though a very muscular one. Her skin is fairly pale and heavily freckled all over. Aspasia has long, curly ginger hair. The hair that frames her face is an odd blonde color, occurring naturally. She doesn't exactly know why it's there, and has always chalked it up to being sunbleached. Her hair is usually kept in a ponytail, or a bun to keep it out of her way.

Aspasia has very pale, almost golden brown eyes. In the light, they appear as a shimmery gold color flecked with amber. Her nose is straight and upturned at the end, paired with full lips. She has long, lovely thick lashes and doe-like eyes. Her brows are rounded and typically well groomed. She has high, healthy cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Aspasia would be a beautiful woman if she didn't have such a horrid scar on her face. It forms an x shape on her cheek and crosses the bridge of her nose, and just barely misses her eye. She got it in a fight with a cougar, and has various other nasty scars around her body from the encounter.

She towers over most other women and some men, giving her an advantage. She uses this advantage to scare people and get what she wants, but it doesn't always work. Attire wise, she usually sticks to the same clothing, switching it up when the seasons change.

Her usual summer outfit begins with a black-button up that usually has the sleeves rolled up. She pairs it with basic blue jeans, and her black floral engraved boots. She wears silver spurs on her boots, and they make a little clinking noise as she walks. Aspasia wears a teal colored bandana around her neck, and a dark brown cattleman hat. She has an old rope tied to the brim, with beautiful feathers tied to it as well. The feathers are a few cardinal feathers, a long moon feather, a peacock feather, and a raven feather. They're bundled so that the first one you see is the peacock feather, essentially making it the star of the show.

For winter, she wears a brown undershirt with a heavy sheepskin and wolf fur coat. It's a green fabric with the inside lining being made from sheepskin and wool, and the hood and sleeves are lined with wolf fur. She did not make it, but she did hunt the animals to get the materials for it. She wears blue jeans again lined with sheepskin, and the same boots as always.

As far as accessories go, Aspasia wears a few that weren't already mentioned. She has a bracelet made from the tail hair of her late horse, which she never takes off. The hair is white in color and often stands out. The other is a necklace, which is really just a thick silver wire coiled around a beautiful aquamarine stone. It is connected to small chain-links, which is the part that goes around her neck.

Personality

Despite her oddly intimidating aura, Aspasia's personality speaks otherwise. She is a very kind and motherly woman, usually tending to the wounds of the people in need and treating them when they get sick. She is horribly curious, which tends to lead to more trouble than anything good. Aspasia is incredibly clever and has quick thinking skills, which means that the others usually turn to her when a problem arises. She is the mediator for arguments and disputes, she knows how to settle them and make sure both parties get something equal to agree on. She is a leader and will often take on leadership roles, but it wasn't always this way.

Callie is a naturally shy and awkward person, but since she became wanted and hunted, she had no choice but to learn how to change and adapt to fit in. One of the worst things about her is how argumentative and opinionated she is. Aspasia will argue for hours on end about anything and will not give up, and she always feels the need to share her opinions. She will butt into conversations to argue or state an opinion, which does nothing but piss people off.

Aspasia is an incredibly romantic and caring person. Few have seen this side of her, but she is willing to share it to those she's close with. She loves physical touch and words of affirmation, she is always touching someone or praising them as a result. Aspasia always gets what she wants, and if she doesn't get it, she'll throw a fit. She's a smooth talker and will use seduction or charm to get her way, and if all else fails, she will simply throw a fit over it.

Shes a very calm and well-collected person, it's proved to be incredibly hard to anger her. While she does get frustrated from time to time, she won't snap at people. She will let them know she's in a pissy mood or they pissed her off, but she'll do so in the nicest way possible. Overall, Aspasia is a good person. Or, well, she likes to believe she is. She has a moral code that she sticks to religiously, but her morals don't exactly align well with other people's. Some may view her as messed up for the way she thinks and feels, and very few will agree with her.

Aspasia is not a very loyal person when it comes to much. She desperately wants to live an average life, but the price on her head will never allow it. She is generally a very honest person, but a lie on the occasion never hurts anyone. She is an extremely compassionate and sympathetic person, she often finds herself feeling bad for wounded or anyone who is upset. She will try her hardest to make them feel better, to the point where she ends up horribly annoying them.

Aspasia is highly intuitive and can always sense whenever something is going on. It's an awful gut feeling she gets, and it also applies to people's moods and emotions. Though, despite this, she doesn't always ask or make comments about it. Aspasia is very nosy and will always be up in someone's business. She cannot help it, it's just her curious nature. A lot of people find this to be extremely annoying, but she doesn't even seem to realize it.

Strengths

- Horseback riding

- Gun drawing/sharpshooting

- Aiming

- Quick/logical thinking

- Intimidation/persuasion

- Lassoing

Weaknesses

- Agility

- 1 on 1 combat

- Weak leg

- Highly competitive, leads to fights

- Very opinionated

- Excessive curiosity

Mount

Aspasia rides a lovely Shire horse. He is around 17 hh and is a deep black in color, with slight dapples on his belly and hind. He has a singular white sock and a white star. The most noticeable thing about him is his mane and tail. He has a white streak in both of them, the origin of them unknown. This makes him easy to pick out. She has had him since he was a foal, and owned his mother before she was killed during a fight.

As the first light of dawn broke through and spilled out on the horizon, the smoke trailing upwards into the sky began to die down and dissipate into nothing. The sun peeked over the plains, a seemingly endless wasteland of grass where you can never quite tell whenever the sky and land separate. As the sun rose, it painted the sky with pastel colors, predominantly pink and pale blue. In the middle of the endless land of grass, a small tent and a dying fire could be seen. A great big horse laid outside the tent, peacefully sleeping like the person inside the tent. The wind carried the scents of late spring, and carried seeds of fluffy white dandelions.

Two horses in the distance increased their pace upon spotting the tent, urged on by the spurs of their riders. As the two drew nearer to the tent, a gasp of surprise could be heard. "Ay! Look at that horse, John. He looks oddly familiar, don't he?" One of the riders spoke out, his tone excited. The other man pulled his reins over the horn of his saddle and swung a leg over to the side, feet touching the grass as he dismounted. "That's the murderer's horse, ain't it? We found 'er!" His tone matched the one of his partner, and he whipped around to face the other man. They wore the same expression.

Inside the tent, Aspasia listened in closely. Murderer. Such a hateful word, for someone who did what she had to. She steadied her breathing and held her breath as everything went quiet, the only sounds being the wind in the grass and the songs the birds sung. Suddenly, a loud whinny rang out into the warm morning air. Aspasia's blood ran cold. She pulled her knife from her boots, which she was now hurriedly putting on.

As another loud, pained whinny rang out, she sprang from the tent. Her body connected with another, and she raised her knife over her head. Aspasia plunged it downwards, satisfaction filling her body as she felt the metal slice into her target. He yelled out in pain, flailing around in an attempt to remove the woman from him. She pulled her knife from his side and rolled off, quickly jumping up to her feet to face them both.

The stabbed man shakily rose to his feet, holding the side that was now bleeding through his fingers. She was too focused on the blood to notice the other man behind her. Aspasia let out a choked cry as she felt cold metal stab into her back, tearing her clothing as it went. She swiftly moved away from the man behind her, ripping the bloodied knife from her back. She let out another cry, this one of pure rage. Aspasia charged towards the man, grabbing him by the fabric of his shirt. She didn't give him enough time to react, and hurriedly plunged the metal into his chest. Blood squirted out from the new wound, splattering onto her freckled face.

There was a stinging pain in her back, and she could feel her own blood dripping down the back of her pants. Aspasia tore the knife from the man's chest, watching as he fell to his knees clutching where he was stabbed. He then fell onto his back, and she could hear the gurgling of the blood in his throat.

The woman whirled on the other man, who had his own knife readied. They circled each other, like two dogs locked in combat. He was the first to strike. She had just barely managed to dodge the knife, feeling it lightly graze the fabric on her shoulder. As he recovered and readied himself for another strike, she acted. Aspasia lunged forwards, driving the knife deep into the gut of the man. He screamed in pure agony as she ripped it from his body, only to plunge it in again.

Aspasia stared deep into his stormy blue eyes, her face scrunching up in hatred. "Leave. Leave and don't come back." She hissed, twisting the knife deeper into his abdomen. Her hand released the handle of the knife, and the man instantly scurried away towards the horizon. Both of their horses had fled, although hers had been watching the whole ordeal.

"Bounty hunters. Nothing more than sad sacks of shit." Aspasia grumbled to herself as she made her way back to her tent, the pain in her back worsening with each step. It almost killed her just to bend down to enter the tent flap. She gritted her teeth as she dug in her bag, pulling out a few bandages and cleaning solution. Aspasia lifted the back of her clothing and wiped the wound with the solution, biting her bottom lip harshly to prevent herself from crying out. She then carefully wrapped the bandages around her abdomen, lowering her clothes again. She needed the leave, and fast.

Despite the almost unbearable pain, Aspasia packed up her belongings and her tent. She tied her things onto the back of her horse and slowly hoisted herself into the saddle, closing her eyes as she felt hot tears form. The pastel colors in the sky were fading as the sun rose higher and higher, coloring the world in a soft blue light.

Aspasia gently spurred her horse forwards, wincing each step he took. The blood in the flattened grass, and the man who lay there was a telltale sign of what had happened. She urged her horse to increase his pace to a trot, and they were off. It was a quiet morning as they trotted along, the faint churning of the river nearby, the birds, and the sound of the horse's great big hooves being the only sounds.

Aspasia moved further into the plains, following a dirt path that had been formed from years of horses traveling through. She would have to flee to the woods for now, which happened to be a good distance away. The pain seemed to lessen as they went on, but it still stung like hell.

Under the vast canopy of trees, the air was chilly, but the sparse pockets of sunlight were pleasantly warm. Lou and Georgie made their way leisurely through the pine forest, taking time to enjoy the weather and the view. Upon first glance, a stranger would have assumed that they were simply out for a trail ride on a nice day. On closer inspection, however, it would be impossible to miss the expert way Lou rested her hand on the butt of her pistol, or the imprint her serrated knife made in the front pocket of her worn, frayed jeans.

Of the last two bounty hunters set loose on this mark, only one had come back, and just barely; he had lost so much blood it was a miracle he had been able to keep moving. He claimed that he had been attacked and his friend murdered, and refused to get back on the mark's trail once he'd rested up. Laziness, Lou thought; why he didn't just patch himself up and keep going was beyond her. The bounty was the same whether the mark was dead or alive as well; Lou didn't have any qualms about shooting first if it looked like things were going south.

Finally, the pair broke out of the treeline and onto the massive expanse of the plains, crunchy brown grasses stretching as far as the eye could see. The last sighting of the mark had been out here, when the other hunter had gotten himself stabbed and his partner killed. The plains could be dangerous; miles and miles of open land with nowhere to hide or run to. On the other hand, there was no chance of someone sneaking up on you out here. The wind whistled eerily over the softly rolling hills, blowing gently at the few strands escaping from Lou's braid. It was much warmer out here than in the woods; Lou shrugged out of her brown overcoat and wrapped it around her saddle horn.

The thin line of smoke rising into the air led Lou straight to the mark's old camp. Stupid mistake, she thought; easy to make in a rush, but one that could cost you your life. The dry grass crackled under Georgie's hooves as they approached the nearly-extinguished fire. The mare snorted as Lou slipped out of her saddle and slowly made her way over to the remains of the camp.

The fire was small and just barely smoldering; it had probably been started for warmth, not to cook or do anything else. Lou wondered why you would start a fire in the middle of the plains, with nothing to cover you. There were a few scattered holes in the ground where a small tent had obviously been pitched. Several long black hairs from the tail of a horse were wrapped around a few particularly tall stalks of grass. Taking a slow, deep breath, Lou turned to face the rest of the scene.

The corpse lay in the dust at an unnatural angle, already stiff and becoming discolored. Hordes of flies swarmed over it, covering its skin and clothing in an undulating black layer. Lou wrinkled her nose and stepped closer, waving her hands to shoo the insects away. The stab wound in his chest was obviously what had killed him. Trickles of blood ran from his mouth into the dirt beneath him, indicating that at least one of his organs had probably been punctured. He had another gash along his side as well, though not nearly so large or lethal.

Lou's scuffed boots kicked up tiny clouds of dust as she headed back to Georgie, who was eyeing the nearby corpse anxiously. "'S'all right, girl", Lou murmured, scratching her shoulder. She didn't know if anyone was coming to collect the body; that wasn't her job. She couldn't haul a rotting corpse across some of the toughest terrain in the country on the trail of a murderer. Still, she felt a little guilty as she swung back into her saddle and left the camp behind.

A set of faint hoofprints in the earth pointed to the west. There were a few splatters of blood alongside the printers; it looked as though the mark had been injured as well in the scuffle. Good. They'd move slower and take the easier routes, and that would make Lou's job all the more easy. She urged Georgie into a trot, and they found themselves on a rough dirt path that had been carved out by previous riders. Lou could hear a river gurgling nearby and made a mental note to check the banks every so often for the mark's camp. If they were hurt badly enough, they wouldn't make it far before they needed to rest. With the river just barely in view, far in the distance, Lou and Georgie trotted on, farther into the endless ocean of dry grass.

As the pair rode along, the sun rose higher and higher against the pale blue sky. Faint, wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky, followed closely by birds. A hawk screeched somewhere in the distance. Aspasia could see the small, barely visible outline of trees against the horizon, and behind them loomed a mountain. The mountain was colored a deep blue, with lighter blue peaks. The stabbing pains in her lower back had mostly subsided, but she could still feel the sting. It felt like a wasp. It hadn't been her choice to come to the plains, nor to camp here.

She was chased out of the valleys by another set of bounty hunters, and had barely escaped by the skin of her teeth. As the trees came closer into view, Aspasia spurred her horse into a canter. Iris snorted as he sped up, his great hooves loudly hitting the dirt trail. Although he's the worst possible choice of horse for someone who's wanted, she couldn't bring herself to find another. Aspasia raised him and his mother, there was sentimental attachment to him.

The two came nearer and nearer to the forest until they broke through the tree line, Aspasia ducking to avoid low hanging branches. Iris stomped over twigs and small branches, snapping them in half with his weight. The feathers on his feet would most definitely be briar filled after this. She nervously glanced behind her, making sure these was no one there. The forest was peaceful, with sunlight streaming down through the canopy of trees and spilling onto the floor. The river was close now, and she steered Iris into the direction of it.

As they came upon the river bank, she stopped him and dismounted. Her ankles stung as they hit the sandy ground, causing her to wince. Aspasia patted the sweaty shoulder of the Shire as he lowered his head to drink. The water shone a beautiful, clear blue in the sunlight. Aspasia peered into the water, staring down at her distorted reflection. She picked up a small, smooth and shiny grey pebble and dropped it over her reflection. It rippled and then disappeared.

Aspasia glanced next to her, seeing the reflection of Iris. He looked rather funny, his great big head oddly shaped in the water. She then brought her head up, now staring at the looming mountains that rose high above the trees. It was a safer bet to climb them, but she wasn't sure if Iris could make it. He's too large, he isn't sturdy on his feet like a smaller horse would be. She turned her gaze back to him with a frown. After he had his fill of water and some graze, she reluctantly pulled herself into the saddle with a groan. It was horribly painful, but she had no choice but to keep moving.

Aspasia urged Iris forwards into the river, clutching the reins tightly as he trudged through the water. He made mighty splashes that casted water upwards into her face. She chuckled as he snorted in displeasure upon reaching the other bank, obviously upset about being soaking wet. As they picked their way carefully though the undergrowth of the forest, Aspasia couldn't help but cast nervous glances behind her. She was worried that she was being tracked, and there was a growing pit in her stomach. It made her feel queasy and ill.

Iris continued along the faint path of flattened grass made by previous riders. Perhaps she wasn't the only bounty around here. As they reached the base of the mountain, she carefully examined the area for a path. As she spotted one, her eyes followed it up as far as she could see. It seemed safe enough. So off they went, trotting up the mountain cautiously. Rocks slid and fell from under them, creating a small pool of dust around them.

Aspasia glanced around at the mix of rocky and grassy scenery, a massive change from the sea of grass she sss previously in. Wildflowers grew along the path they walked, dotted colors of orange, red, and purple. Iris was unsure as he walked, slipping every so often. He always caught his balance easily, but she knew he would fall sooner or later. The uphill path eventually opened up into flat land up top, a viewing place where it seemed she could see the entire world. Her eyes landed on a distant figure on the horizon, a figure on horseback.

The pit in her stomach grew and she almost fell off Iris in a panic. Aspasia kicked him forwards in a hurry, and off they went across the flat land. It broke off into jagged cliffs and rocky cut offs. Even if that was just a normal person out on the trail, she didn't want to risk being seen. She didn't even know if she could be seen from there. He came to a sudden halt and Aspasia lurched forwards, the saddle horn digging harshly into her stomach. "What the-" she began in a harsh tone, but quickly shut up when she saw the event before her.

On a small cliff lay a man and horse, the horse a horrific sight. The neck bone was snapped out of the neck, and there were open bloody wounds. Aspasia gasped in horror, too startled to even realize Iris was moving again. She was launched off of his back, her foot caught in the stirrup before she thrashed about, trying to remove it. As soon as she broke free, Iris lowered his nose towards her, snorting in fear.

As Lou and Georgie continued on, the faint path became more and more defined. It was slightly sunken into the ground by the weight of countless horses over the years, and tiny rivulets of cloudy groundwater ran along its sides. It had become blazingly hot as the day wore on; Georgie stretched her neck out to the small streams of water, but Lou gently pulled her head away. She could tell by its rushing noises that they were getting closer to the river - no point in drinking dirty water when a fresh source was so near. Lou was hot, too, though. She wore a thin, white cotton shirt specifically for their trip across the plains, but the heat was still getting to her. Her shirt was notably darker and damp across her back where she had been sweating under the sun.

Suddenly, she pulled Georgie to a stop. The mare snorted in indignation and pawed the ground, but Lou ignored her, swinging onto the ground. Before the pair was a clearly visible path of hoofprints. The prints were massive compared to Georgie's hooves - it had been reported by several bounty hunters that the target was traveling on a draft horse. Despite the heat, Lou felt rejuvenated; she hauled herself back into the saddle and spurred Georgie on, following the hoofprints down the winding dirt path.

The two traveled for hours more, taking short rests to avoid dropping from heat exhaustion. There was no shade to cool them, so Lou resorted to fanning them with her old, torn brown hat. It did next to nothing, but Georgie still leaned against her appreciatively. They drank small amounts from Lou's last waterskin; she was trying to use her reserves as sparingly as possible. She would refill them once they reached the river, but they would have to be even more conservative from that point on. Lou was unfamiliar with the upcoming part of the mountains; if they had to travel across them, she wouldn't know where to find sources of water and would have to be resigned to chancing upon them.

Finally, as the sun was just beginning to descend and cast its orange rays across the earth, they reached the edge of the plains and the forest beyond them. Stepping into the shade of the trees was a welcome reprieve from the hot sun and dry air of the endless plains. Lou dismounted and led Georgie through the spongy undergrowth the rest of the way to the river.

The water was rougher than she expected, churning and spraying white foam into the air, but it was nothing they couldn't handle. Lou slipped off Georgie's bridle and let her loose to drink from the river while she inspected the banks; she trusted her not to wander far. As she'd hoped, more of the large hoofprints were embedded in the sandy soil at the edge of the water. She was certain there would be a matching trail on the opposite side.

As she refilled her waterskins, Lou squinted at the towering mountains looming above them. The forest looked to lead directly to the path that would take them into the mountain range; there would be no way around it. It was hard to gauge from her position just how steep the trail would be, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be easy going.

They crossed the river easily, Lou crouching atop her saddle with her stirrups and saddlebags piled on Georgie's back as she felt her way carefully across the riverbed. On the other side, she found a thick copse of trees that would shield them from the view from the worn path. If the blood back at the old camp was any indication, the mark was wounded enough for their progression to be affected; Lou and Georgie could afford to rest for a few hours.

The sky was clear and bright, so Lou left her tent packed and laid out just her sleeping bag. She made no fire; it would be able to be seen from the trail. She untacked George and set all of her tack and supplies in one pile not far from her sleeping bag. She hadn't had any issues with attracting animals while sleeping out on the trail, but she didn't want to risk losing any food or supplies. By now, it was totally dark out, and Lou could only see by the slight light of the stars far above her head. She snuggled down into her sleeping bag and laid her overcoat over herself as a sort of makeshift blanket. She could hear Georgie settling down not far from her, and the sound was comforting. With her horse nearby and the stars glittering in the sky, Lou drifted off slowly into a short, restless sleep.

The two had recovered from their shock fairly quickly and had since moved further into the mountains. The fall had worsened her back, and the pain was almost becoming unbearable. Aspasia bit her bottom lip as she felt hot tears form in her eyes, threatening to break loose. With each step Iris took, the more pain she felt. As the bright light of the day and the intense heat began to subside, she knew sunset was nearing. She knew she couldn't keep riding all night, she would rip her entire back open. The two rode along the winding mountains, working their way up higher. They had gone off the barely formed trails awhile ago, and the winds had surely wiped away the hoof prints of Iris. She would be safe for now.

Aspasia spotted a small overhang, surrounded by lush green grass and free of rocks. The perfect place for Iris to rest. She carefully steered him in the direction of the overhang, wincing everytime the large horse stumbled on rocks. They were deathly close to the edge of the mountain. One wrong move and they would both be sent over the edge to certain death. She turned her head to the edge, which provided a perfect view of the sky. The sun was lowering below the horizon, and the sky was a beautiful burst of color on one half. The other half was a deep blue, speckled with the first stars of the night.

Aspasia let out a sigh of relief as they made it safely to the overhang. With great reluctance, she took her feet out of the stirrups, swung a leg over the saddle and let herself slide to the ground. Not a single word could describe the amount of pain she felt. It was like the cougar attack all over again, the one that ruined her pretty face. Despite the horrid, stinging pain, Aspasia turned back towards Iris and began to undo her saddle cinch. She then moved to undo the back one, and then heaved the saddle off of his back with a great difficulty.

He needed the saddle off. It was too heavy to keep on all the time, and the health of her horse is one of the most important things. Without a capable and healthy horse, how is she supposed to evade the bounty hunters? Aspasia set it gently in the grass, and then took the blanket from his back. Then his bridle. Iris nickered softly at her, blinking in appreciation. She approached the saddle on the ground and pulled out some hide-wrapped meat and her dented metal canteen.

With an annoyed groan, she bent down to grab the padded wool roll from the very back of the saddle. She did need something other than grass to sleep on, for the sake of her back. Slowly, she lowered herself against the wall before the overhang and slid herself down it. Aspasia crawled on her knees to move under the overhang and laid out her bedroll against the grass. The overhang itself wasn't that big, but she was able to comfortably lean against the wall underneath it and almost sit up straight. In her lap, she unwrapped the meat. It was venison she had cooked and salted to preserve, and thankfully it was still good to eat.

Her pain seemed to fade in the slightest, yet she could still feel it throbbing. As Aspasia took the first bite of the venison, her gaze drifted to the sky again. The array of colors previously on display were faded, and joined the deep blue. Stars twinkled brightly, and the moon was beginning to come up.

Aspasia quickly finished her food and took a few swigs from her canteen. She watched as Iris peacefully grazed, his dark body blocking her view of anything else. He wouldn't wander off and she knew it. She trusted him. Aspasia hesitantly brought a hand to her lower back and lifted her shirt. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and then touched her fingers to the wound. Although covered, she could still feel it through the fabric.

It wasn't that bad at all, but being in a saddle all day really made her feel horrible. Aspasia could hear the croaking of frogs and the chirping of crickets off in the distance. It was peaceful, and all seemed to be well at the moment. Often times she wished she could just have a normal life. Although she had got herself into this whole mess, it also wasn't exactly her fault. She had no choice but to murder the people she did, and it still haunted her. Aspasia sighed deeply and moved to lay down on her bedroll, pulling the woolen blanket over her. It was actually rather comfortable and made her feel safe.

Slowly, she drifted off into a light sleep, still highly aware of her surroundings. One small noise and she would be wide awake.

A noise in the branches overheard jolted Lou out of her uneasy slumber. Her hand shot instinctively to the knife in her front pocket and around the handle, ready to brandish the weapon at whatever was trying to sneak up on her.

A gray squirrel peered curiously down through the leaves at her, its tiny nose twitching. Lou let out a long sigh and slowly uncurled her fingers from the handle of her knife. The squirrel, quickly losing interest, dashed to another branch and then out of sight.

It was early morning, judging by the weak light flooding in through the trees. Georgie stood a few meters away, tail switching softly as she dozed in a puddle of sunlight. Lou clambered out of her sleeping bag, grabbing her overcoat and pulling it on as the chilly morning air hit her skin. She wished she had some coffee, but it would be reckless to start a fire so close to the trail when she was trying to remain secluded. She rolled her sleeping bag back up and tied it in place with a few pieces of twine.

She and Georgie made another quick trip to drink at the river before packing up to get back on the trail. Georgie stood calmly as Lou tacked her up and secured all of her supplies. She triple-checked the waterskins to ensure that they wouldn't tip over and spill as they clambered up the steep mountain. She knew her knife was in her pocket from the squirrel incident earlier, but she checked again anyway. Her pistol was in an old holster she'd tied onto Georgie's saddle horn; she took it out carefully and checked the chamber. Loaded.

Lou swung into the saddle and paused for just a moment, listening for movement out on the trail, before steering Georgie back out onto the path. The trail of hoofprints was still embedded into the dust, albeit a bit more faded by the wind.

The trek up the mountain was slow. The trail was full of switchbacks that led Lou and Georgie in a zigzag pattern across the mountain face. Lou tried not to let her gaze stray to the ground far below them; even though the switchbacks meant that they didn't have to climb straight up, the mountain was still fairly steep.

They were coming around what felt like the thousandth switchback when Georgie stopped dead in her tracks, feet planted firmly in the dirt. Lou fell forward onto her neck, just barely catching herself before she hit the ground.

Before them in the trail lay a horse and rider. They had obviously fallen from a great height; the horse's spine protruded straight out of its neck, and the man's entire lower body appeared to have been crushed by his mount's weight.

"Jesus", Lou muttered as she dismounted and made her way hesitantly towards the bloody scene. The man's eyes were still open, just beginning to cloud over, as she peered down into his face. No scar. It wasn't her mark.

She looked up at the mountain above her. She could see a spot on one of the higher trails where the rocks must have crumbled underneath the horse's weight. The soil appeared to become crumblier and less stable the higher you climbed.

Lou climbed back onto Georgie's back and urged her to step slowly over the two bodies in the trail ahead. The mare snorted nervously as she crossed over them, but didn't dare bolt or buck so high up in the air.
Lou made a point to ride significantly slower as the trail wound higher and higher. It wasn't worth falling off a mountain and bashing her skull in just to catch up to a mark, no matter how good the bounty was. The trail of hoofprints had gotten more and more faint until they had finally disappeared, but Lou wasn't worried; whether you stayed on the path or not, you still had to get to the summit of the mountain. She stopped Georgie a few times to dribble water into her mouth from her back. She was far too wary to dismount onto the crumbling trail and water her that way.

They finally took a longer break for Georgie to pick at the sparse mountain grasses and for Lou to snack on some stale crackers. She tried not to look down, but it was inevitable. From this height, the plains looked just as endless as they felt when she was riding through them. On the horizon was a thin dark line that she guessed must be the forest she'd left to enter the plains. Even so high up, it made her feel indescribably small. She knew if she tumbled down onto the plains below, there was no one to come looking for her. Bounty hunters went missing or died looking for marks all the time; she would just be another. Those kinds of thoughts, usually so comforting and freeing to her, now felt deeply disturbing, and she kicked Georgie onwards.

She thought of Paul, the old man who ran the bounty hunters' guild that spanned this part of the country. He might wonder what happened to her; after all, he'd given her food, work, and even a place to stay when she'd tracked him down at a bar when she was eighteen, wild-eyed and desperate for a new start. He wouldn't send anyone to look, though, especially considering that this mark had already killed one bounty hunter and seriously wounded another. Maybe he'd miss her. She hoped he would, at least.

At the first pale grey light of dawn, Aspasia awoke and begrudgingly packed her things back up. After she finished, she pulled out her small medical pouch. Her heart raced in her chest as she took out a few things, knowing the pain that was about to come. Carefully, she lifted her shirt and pulled off the cloth wrap currently around her torso. The amount of blood on the fabric made her scrunch her nose in pure disgust. It was completely stained crimson in one spot, and had a horrid smell to it from the solution. Aspasia took a deep breath in before she applied more of the solution, throwing her head back and letting out a quiet cry of pain. She quickly wrapped the new cloth around her torso and tied it in the front, allowing her shirt to fall back down.

Aspasia sat for a minute, breathing heavily to try to distract herself from the pain. It was more than a sting at this point, it was completely indescribable. After a short period of time, she finally managed to stand up. She grabbed her bag and attached it back to her saddle in the grass, then took a second to look at Iris. He was also awake, peering at her curiously. Iris turned his full body to face her, bringing his nose down to her hands. He seemed to be concerned. "All good, my pretty boy." Aspasia cooed, resting a hand on his nose.

It didn't take long for her to put his saddle and bridle back on. It was a bitless bridle, so it was easy to just slip on over his head and adjust. Aspasia gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply as she placed a foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up onto his back. Although Iris is a horse of great size, she was also fairly tall. It wasn't much of a struggle.

Aspasia spurred him into a trot, and off they went further towards the summit. From the summit, she knew there was a trail down onto the other side of the mountains. She had not been on it herself, but many had spoke of it. It become much more dangerous as they went up. Iris stumbled over himself once and had slipped, one of his hind legs going off of the edge of the mountain. He had quickly caught himself, but it left both of them in a panicked state. Aspasia groaned as the sun rose, the heat of the day starting to beat down on her. Sweat soaked her forehead and strands of her ginger and blonde hair clung to it.

The sunlight was almost unbearable. Despite her hat shading her face, if she even slightly looked up she was immediately blinded. Aspasia glanced slightly up, using her hand to shade her eyes. An eagle sat perched upon a deal tree, screeching into the void of the blue sky. There were no clouds at all. Iris came to a sudden halt, letting out a loud snort. They had almost reached the summit. "What, boy?"

She questioned him as if he could respond back to her. Aspasia stared ahead, seeing nothing blocking their path. She gave him a gentle kick, and he seemed so snap out of whatever was wrong and keep going. Soon they had reached the summit, and both viewed the land below on either side. She was incredibly thankful that the mountain wasn't large, otherwise she would've been doomed. She stared down at the other side of the mountain, which was also surrounded by trees.

From there, she could see not a single settlement for miles. That was good for her, it just gave her less to worry about. It would take days to reach a town, let alone one with a sheriff. Aspasia let Iris carefully begin to make his way down, and she could only hold the reins and the saddle horn in a white knuckled grip. It seemed to be easier going down than up. Her mind drifted back to the man and his horse. It made her shudder slightly, knowing that could easily end up being her. It would most definitely be a better fate than getting caught by a bounty hunter, that's for sure though.

Aspasia could tell Iris was getting too tired to keep going, and scouted the land beneath them for a resting spot. There was a small cliff, probably just big enough for the both of them. It was grassy and slightly rocky.

Aspasia pulled him off to the cliff, dismounting carefully. She winced and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out. After recovering, she pulled her canteen from the saddle bag and took a long drink of water. Then, she poured some in her hands and held them out to Iris. She repeated this a few times until he seemed to be content. After a little while, she mounted him again and they kept going down until they reached a completely flat platform.

Again, they stopped. She had no worries of them falling, as the platform proved to be fairly large. As Iris grazed on the grass, she leaned against a boulder and fanned herself with her hands. The heat was beginning to get to her, and she wasn't sure how much she could take anymore. "Oh, boy. When we're free I'm going to give you all the grain in the world." Aspasia sighed softly as she spoke, her gaze resting on the horse.

He truly was a beautiful sight. There was no horse like him, appearance and personality wise. The white streaks in his mane and tail seemed to shine brightly, like water in the sun. He looked back at her and she could see grass sticking out of one side of his mouth. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. Aspasia felt horrible for putting him through this. The mountain, the constant fleeing, everything. He had been wounded once, and it made her heart shatter into millions of little pieces.

Iris had been shot and downed, which just injured him worse. Aspasia was just glad he managed to pull through. He was a good, strong horse and she was thankful for that.