[ a venture ] {open}

[Akecheta]

Naturally tanned man leaned ever so slightly back, and the painted mare came to a quiet halt. Steely eyes gazed at the forest line; looking beyond what the branches concealed. There was a healthy deer population within - besides the fact that he had hunted here dozens of times - he knew to look for the subtle hints deer left. There were lines in the underbrush that could only be made by constant hoof contact, and cows and horses would leave a far larger mess. A few of the trees had bark missing in thin areas where the bucks had scratched off their velvet. However, he had brought in a spike three days prior and did not desire anymore of mother nature. What did make the warrior stop were the buildings now looming on the horizon. Don't confuse this brief stop for fear, dear reader. He is more than able to defend himself - it was doubtful if any townsfolk lived a life that demanded it as much as his own had. Rather, the hesitance was due to the intense distrust that these intruders had instilled in him. They robbed him of more than he could list, and so the near loathing came easy. But necessities were called such for a reason; his people were currently low on ammunition. A quick visit the gunsmith was required. He did not have much money on him, but enough to get the job done. He had learned long ago that wealth within his circles (horses, food, shelter, land, happiness) was measured much differently there. One was considered rich when pockets were overflowing with gold and silver. Suppose yet another way these nations differed.

A gentle squeeze got the overo to usher in some movement. Akecheta did fit the typical description of his people at the moment. He rode bareback with a very primitive bosal, as he had excellent balance and did not need unnatural communication means with his Anaba. Whenever he did venture into Amarillo, she was always his mount of choice. The absence of tack may dissuade potential thieves, and for any unlucky enough to try to steal her they were in for a surprise. Tired of the white man's raids for horses, his people began teaching their horses certain habits. Kick the horse? Prepare to be atop a bronco. She would also not move off when mounted or in-hand if she wasn't whispered a word to first. Some pale faces had their horses trained to move off by clucks or whistles - this was just another method of acceleration. Nevertheless, he was still uneasy entering the town. But once within the city limits, a cold distant facade took over. It was hard to repress the memories of what these settlers had done, and it took quite a bit of control to not scalp the first sharp-mouth idiot that he would surely come across.

The mare's gait was a quiet yet brisk walk as he came into the town square. He avoided eye contact with all, and looked forward determinedly. Apache slid easily over the equine's side he stopped at the livery stables - he would not be gone long. But in the mean-time she could rest and have a drink if she'd like. Tied rather loosely (the girl had a habit of untying herself if she didn't fancy her rein-length) at a hitching post alongside a water trough, this tall fellow began the relatively short trek to his destination.


occ / / sorry - I'm a bit rusty with people P:

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