Feral Heart

The house was in sight again, and Dakota only hoped that things were calming down. She spurred Luna on to a steady trot until she was close enough to dismount. She did so carefully, and again grabbed the canteens to bring to the door. These weren't friendly folk, but it was the only house around for awhile that might offer some water. She stood before the porch, sizing it up, before she straightened her hat and marched right up the steps. The door was still left open from when she had made a hasty retreat, and before her was a sight she hoped would never have to ravage her poor eyes again. "By gum..." she breathed, taking in the sight before her. Blood coated a portion of the floor, coming from both a girl who was swelled up like a balloon, and a man, who appeared to be dead. Dakota slowly removed her hat and walked with deliberate steps toward the girl. The was a man, too; the man who had his guns aimed at her by the entrance. There was a growl that came from behind. Dakota spun around, facing the canine like a deer in headlights.

Dakota grabbed the dark, smooth bow from around her shoulder, drew an arrow from the quiver, and fitted it in the string. She took a cautious step inside the house, but she froze as soon as the gun shot rang through her ears. The other man, the one who was beating the poor woman, crumpled on top of her. She looked over to the other man, the one with the guns, and raised her brows. She had definitely come at the wrong time.

(I did knock. o3o)

Dakota's hands moved to her hips as she awaited a response from inside. After a few moments, she raised her hand to knock again, and this time called, "'Ello? Anyone in there?" She turned her head around to Luna, who was quietly grazing at some of the dead grass that grew along the path. If no one answered, she would likely have to walk around the side of the building and look for some kind of well.

It was a blistering day, to no surprise. Dakota reached a gloved hand over her drenched head, repositioned her Stetson, and wiped the drops of sweat clinging to her brow with the back of her hand. It had been a hard ride since she left town a couple of weeks ago. Since then it was camping by cliff sides, hunting for game (mainly hares) with her bow, and riding, riding, riding. She didn't mind it too much, though. Luna was a good, sturdy mare, and never faltered over even the most precarious rocks. Dakota reached down by her right leg, where there hung two deer-skin canteens. They made a hollow sound as they bounced together, and before she even raised the canteen up to her lips, she knew it was empty. "All my eye," she muttered, shaking her head. "Luna, you been snippin' my Adam's ale? Darned horse, you." The mare gave a snort beneath her. "'Course it wasn't you, 'course it wasn't." Dakota suddenly pulled on the reins, halting the horse. She peered into the distance, where she sighted the faint outline of a cottage. Then she dug her spurs into the sides of the beast, leading her onwards toward the house. "Maybe we kin fill up there," she inquired.