♟ 019 A C T I O N | V I D E O
[ It is evening now. The last fury of the sun is fading in the western sky where it had before stood as a red pillar, a column to hold up the dome of the sky, or like the staunched blood of a wound spread in the shape of itself across the bandage meant to hold it within. But the last fire of the sunset has dimmed now and the evening light has spread out in the cooler and iridescent layers of twilight and the depths of the stars surface through the depths of the sky. The last of the daylight comes down in broken pieces through the spines of the cholla and the creosote bushes and the twisted and wind-shaped trees. Among them is a fire built of the skeletons of the cholla and burning in the dust. When the wind gusts, chains of hot sparks scuttle downwind across the sand. There are two figures before it there, man and beast, side by side, in the kind of strange truce that this countryside requires. They watch the fire and they eat of the meat of some desert animal that has fallen to them, their eyes giving back the red light of the flames at times and at times glittering darkly and coldly. The sparks race down the sand again and behind them a horse snuffles in the growing cold.
The little desert wolf turns to the figure beside it as though it heard some sound that had with it no motion. It watches. The light has faded farther and the stars are pushing out of the last light to the west. The figure takes the widebrimmed hat from its head and pulls back the shadow from its face and lets fall from beneath the hat all her red hair that shines in the firelight as bright as the fire itself or like the former brightness of the setting sun. The woman looks inside the hat for a moment and then sets it aside in the dust. The coyote licks his mouth and turns back to the fire. ]
"Where to next, then, Trick?"
[ ooc; Amy is genre-switched to a Western. withloadedguns is cursed to be a coyote. And her sidekick. ]
The little desert wolf turns to the figure beside it as though it heard some sound that had with it no motion. It watches. The light has faded farther and the stars are pushing out of the last light to the west. The figure takes the widebrimmed hat from its head and pulls back the shadow from its face and lets fall from beneath the hat all her red hair that shines in the firelight as bright as the fire itself or like the former brightness of the setting sun. The woman looks inside the hat for a moment and then sets it aside in the dust. The coyote licks his mouth and turns back to the fire. ]
"Where to next, then, Trick?"
[ ooc; Amy is genre-switched to a Western. withloadedguns is cursed to be a coyote. And her sidekick. ]