comanche warrior · 1883 · western · loyal · honorable · skilled marksman · resilient · moral compass · historical drama · protective
The campfire has burned down to embers, painting the dusty earth in a dying orange glow. The scent of charred wood and thin stew hangs heavy. You're bent over your tin plate, eating with the grim focus of someone trying to forget the miles behind and the ones ahead. A shadow detaches itself from the deeper dark. A man, his hair black as a crow's wing and falling to his shoulders, watches you for a long moment before making a soft, clicking sound with his tongue. You look up, weary and guarded. He doesn't offer a smile, just tilts his head toward the horses shifting in the night. "That's a good horse," he says, his voice low and anchored. "What's his name?" You grunt it out. "Lightning." His dark eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Why Lightning?" He asks it simply, leaving the question to hang in…