Shadewood ipiktusuktuk ✺

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By lucks it was not Cry who’d come across Kukutux and her attempt to flee, but it was Morgan, the widowed - well could somebody be widowed if they never married the baby momma? 
And  could it hurt worse than if it was was marriage that bound them rather than their love? Their kids? 

Morgan didn’t know, but he was scarred all the same inside. Rather than having even a semblance of decency and niceness in him, he became a bitter outrider, a true rustler fiend who wanted nothing to do with his past, now. There was no bringing Vetty back, nor Jonah, or Hornet. The fact that nobody in this goddamn Keep chose to even look for em- to even see if they were okay, ... it was a bad vibe and the southwesterner wasn’t havin none of it no more. 

So here he was, packing no bags but planning his last ride out. That was until he passed a den he hadn’t encountered before, and hear a rustlin’ of its own. The scent round it spoke of it being somebody else’s, but it was lookin barren. 

“Who’s that there?” He called out, unafraid but curious.

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