[Winter – Dead Canyon]

“Shit. We're here.” said Jennings while letting out a breath of hot air. Poni skidded to a stop from his previous sprint. “So, I gotta' get somethin' off my chest.”

Wolf listened intently without needing to formulate a response.

Jennings rustled the brim of his cowboy hat. He looked up at the looming entrance of the valley within the ill-fabled canyon. Red-toned walls, discolored from the devastating elements, made up the natural boundaries. The formation had not simply been given its title from the hue of its sand, it had a dark, blood-stained past etched into the sides of the canyon through splattered discolorations.

“You know how dangerous it is for me to pass this point. At least, I know it. I just want you to know, even though you are accompanying Poni and myself, I will not hesitate to save my ass even if it costs yours. You may see some of your own brethren fall at my own hands. Just know that if that's the case, they did deserve it.”

Wolf neither grows angry or more wary, instead he proceeds past Jennings and Poni, choosing to position himself in front of them both. Looking back, he proclaimed.

“Fair. So you won't feel revolted when I act in the same manner. Let us continue, time is a concern outspoken one.”

Too impatient to wait for a response, Wolf entered the ravine grounds without any impediments.

As the duo cautiously passed through, attention was worn as a mask. It had been past a full Sun since departing, Wolf and Jennings remained almost at a competitive level of alertness. Each sound or movement caught their simultaneous attention until the matter was deemed unimportant enough to glance away. One particular stream of falling sand caught Jennings extended interest.

He shot his head in the exact direction where the pebbles flowed from above, only catching a glimpse of a shadowy blur retreating behind a giant stone divide. Jennings couldn't help but feel the shivers being rippled down his spine from the thought of another Ageast, yet he had grown accustomed to the feeling at least. Instead he chose to ignore his senses and follow Wolf toward the closest clearing of the canyon. It seemed unlikely at first but as the illuminated space became more visible, he couldn’t help but think optimistically. still reserving the feeling of paranoia as a candidate for a worst-case scenario.

“I'm gonna' need all this sunshine for color after all, I'm probably pale as an albino ghost right about now.”

Not even the forced joke or subsequent, isolated laughter worked this time for Jennings as he couldn’t ease his own nerves. Wolf still remained stonelike, shortly ahead.

“You are strong, she says. Do not display weakness now, settler.”

Jennings didn't take his words politely, snapping back at his Native company.

“Laughter is my medicine to this shit situation.”

Poni abruptly paused his steps and slightly lifted himself to garner attention.

The horse implored Jennings to look forward with a nodding gesture. The distance combined with the sweltering heat did distort the view at first, but eventually he could make out what appeared to be a tipi on the pane of the now-purple horizon. The motions of travel had brought them to where someone was staying, smack dab in the middle of the Dead Canyon path.

“Is that?...Looks like there might be some supplies up there, keep going Poni!”

The two shoot off in the direction of the minimal shelter, Wolf freely trailed behind, refusing to increase his pace in the sweltering desert winds.

The Spiri tribesman positioned himself as he approached the scene already unfolding before him. Poni wandered the perimeter of the camp, while Jennings had already found his way inside the unidentified tipi. Wolf could hear the intrusive sounds from the exterior of the brown-striped structure. The cloth that qualified as an entrance swung open just as Jennings emerged, he stuffed two glowing Agi volutes into his left jacket pocket.

“Return those items, they don't belong to you.”

Wolf instructed sternly while maintaining composure as the thief, Jennings, walked past.

JJ had grown to his limits on composing himself for Wolf. He barked in his direction.

“Look fucker, the only person that can tell me to put them back isn't here is he? I know for damn sure that you don't have any right to what's in my pocket. So why in the wild would I do what you're telling me? The short answer is, I won't.”

He held his finger dangerously close to Wolf's face, while it emanated an icy glow.

Wolf turned away from the demeaning pose of the pariah and created distance with a firm slap of the instigating wrist. When he felt he had ventured far enough away to ignore the ranting Jennings more effectively, he heard the words being spewed come to an end. He delightfully peered in reverse, over his left shoulder, affirming the silence and taking notice of his companion's hands now in the air. His criminal acquaintance was being held at gunpoint by a scraggly-looking, unkempt Native holding a rifle at JJ’s skull from the advantageous back of the outlaw.

He immediately began inching back and forth, asking questions in his natural tongue. The older native that held Jennings hostage was now rambling in an unfamiliar vernacular. The motions were in such a fitful fashion that the man seemed to distract himself and lose focus of his aim.

The fugitive JJ had only heard this dialect once and it didn’t end in a cordial outcome. One internal objection was made clear, he didn't want to wait around and find out if the subject-matter involved him leaving there alive. In an overzealous display of self-defense, Jennings did not give the poor-skilled fellow a chance. At the first blink of his eye, Jennings dropped his open palms to the floor and exploded an ice force outwards from their location. This enveloping stream of Agi fully consumed him, rifle and all, omitting JJ in the process.

Wolf shouted, “Stop!”

Before his interjection could possibly interfere, Jennings had already shoved over the block containing the man as it toppled and shattered beneath him into several hundreds of shards. Ice always was swift to melt in the Sloan, only leaving a heap of disgusting fluids staining the floor below by the time Wolf got there to intervene. Jennings remained on guard for extra enemies, not assuming the Native companion was an active threat.

Wolf kneeled and ran the stranger's blood through his fingers. He unhurriedly rotated his neck in Jennings' direction.

“You care not of a person's life so much- that you would kill before knowing!?”

He aggressively rose to his feet. His thin, chestnut-colored tunic did a poor job of hiding his immense stature.

“I knew all I needed to fucking know! He's the one that had a gun on me.”

“Yeah and was asking us to leave him alone. It didn't hav-” Wolf still spoke in a calm tone, so it was easy for Jennings to retort in an overbearing fashion drowning him out in response.

“-Shit! If that's asking in your language, then I don't want to meet a fucker that you find untrustworthy.”

“Honestly, what did you expect?”

“To not have a gun pointed at me. Maybe he would've lived to explain himself to me. Instead, I get more of his shit. For longer.”

He patted and wiped any visible blood in his vicinity that had been splattered on an object. Eventually doubling back, he proceeded.

“Well, whatever didn’t turn into a mess with him.”

Wolf relentlessly stared at Jennings, hoping to invoke any bit of remorse. His outlook had quickly been dwindled further when he noticed the criminal heading back into the tipi with the intention of double-checking for anything else worth taking.

The Spiri member returned to his horse seemingly to advance towards their objective. After Jennings was satisfied with his haul, he recalled Poni and rejoined behind Wolf.

The pair didn’t speak again until they arrived at another rock in the road within Dead Canyon, streaming water from the surrounding rivers flowing nearby. No wildlife wished to accompany them on this leg of the trip, instead just the hot air resided. Poni and the other horse crossed the stream with ease. The fork was centered by a prominently marked rock protruding from the river-center with a small child’s bloody handprint. Wolf broke his silence.

“The lost child has shown travelers the way. He pointed for us with his final reach. Come, lost settler. If we survive through this together, you will meet Clear Mind and the answers we seek.”