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Yuuri looked at the last rider of the day. The man had a fantastic form on his horse during previous events, slaying the competition during the tie-down both in time as with an excellent hooey, and the bronco riding.
Yuuri had managed to get top score in barrel racing, but only by the smallest of margins.
Now he was enjoying the end of day event that allowed the winner to parade his horse past the crowds. The man was waving his hat enthusiastically at anyone that waved at him, his unusual silver hair shining in the last rays of the setting sun.
He stretched his arms over his head, hearing some soft plops indicating his spine re-aligning itself after hours of being in the saddle. He, and his body with him, were still settling into this new life he had chosen.
As the only son in a long line of samurai, it had been expected of him at birth to take over and become the next head of the family. But as the influence of the samurai had gotten legislated more and more, his father had fully subtracted himself from the political world, instead opening a small onsen in just under what used to be their family home.
Although people still sought the family out in hopes of alliances his father and mother had send Yuuri to England for forming school instead of brokering a profitable marriage for him as was the tradition. There Yuuri had learned about the western America's and the vaquero, or cowboy in English, falling in love with the stories.
Once his education had completed he had send a letter home to his parents that he would not be returning, giving the right to succession to his older sister instead, but was going to travel west and try his luck in the saddle.
Expecting some disappointment from his parents in the return letter he was surprised to find that his parents had already expected such from his previous correspondence and had prepared funds for him once he arrived in the america's to help him settle. They had wished him much luck, and only hoped he would visit them at least some time soon.
Because of those funds Yuuri had been able to not starve to death his first year, as he had barely made enough to get food for himself on most days. It seemed there had been some apprehension at his origin. If not for his current Segundo Celestino his trail boss would not have taken him on.
His income had even gone up from twenty-five to a whopping thirty-seven dollars a month just in the last seven months. Plus he could be adding the small winnings from the rodeo to those earnings.
If he stayed frugal he might save enough to visit his parents in five years, which he would truly like as he did not want to rely on there money for the trip.
A sudden commotion near one of the back boxes gets his attention, a flash of silver and the loud barking of a dog makes him run to it at once.
Sure enough he finds the silver haired man backed against a walled area with four rough looking men trying to get near him, only the dog Yuuri had heard had placed themself rightly between his owner and the threat keeping them at bay.
"Now we ain't saying you ain't a good rider but you can deal without the prize money. Your choice boy." One of the men, who was clearly the one in charge, said with a crooked leer on his face. "After all you wouldn't want us to make riding exceedingly uncomfortable for you, now do you?"
Yuuri steps in beside the dog, who just looks at him before continuing their barrage of barking at the men, pulls his sword and calmly takes on the fighting pose he had been taught since infancy.
He knows that between that stance and the look on his face it makes no difference he is not wearing his families tradition armor, anyone with brain cells to rub together knows that he means business.
Sure enough he doesn't even have to say anything before the four men decide that they are outmatched and run away.
Yuuri puts his sword away when he hears a loud relieved sigh from behind him. When he looks around he sees the man on his knees in the sand hugging his dog for dear life. It surprises Yuuri to hear a combination of French and Russian into the dog's fur.
It is then that Yuuri notices that he does not have seen this breed of dog ever before, and he is actually quite taken by it's overall look. He is so distracted by his admiration of the dog he fails to notice the rider looking up and staring at him for quite a few minutes. But when he does he turns red almost instantly.
"Uhm, my apologies I hadn't planned to just stand here and stare at your dog." Yuuri peers up. "May I ask though what breed of dog they are, I don't think I have ever seen it before."
"You haven't? Well my Makka here is a poodle, one of the first registered to this country." The man smiles warmly.
"This is a poodle." Yuuri looks at the dog again. "I have seen images of poodles before but those do not do the breed justice."
Victor laughs. "No they do not, but then again my Makka is exceptionally handsome as is too.
I'm Victor by the way, Victor Nikiforov. Well actually it is blah blah blah Victoire jadda jadda ...vich some family names and then another two tittles. But I was born at the Nikiforov estate and thus mostly addressed as Victor or Vitya of Nikiforov. When I left I kept only that name minus the of. And you are?"
He sticks out his hand in the manner of the west, Yuuir calmly places his in Victor's.
"Katsuki Yuuri, I think I can rival both your names and your tittles, son of the Katsuki branch of the family. Named Yuuri for it means strength."
"You too fled your family's expectations of marriage and procreation to find your own fortune in the american west?" Victor almost looks a bit too eager to find a fellow runaway. Yuuri just smiles.
"With my parents approval actually, they wish to see me happy and if that means getting a stone ass for living in a saddle than that is what they want for me." He shrugs. "As for the whole marriage and procreation bit, yeah that too."
"Have you eaten anything? We could talk over some food." Yuuri is not mistaking the loneliness he sees in Victor's eyes as he has felt it many a time himself.
"That would be fantastic."
They found their way to one of the fires that had been lit around the camp to find a nice place to sit and get properly acquainted.