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Street Rat. That's all you would have ever considered yourself up until just over two years ago. Running away from home is a bold move for any child, nonetheless one who was only nine years old. But to you, there was no other choice. Pa' was mean. Did you need any other reason?
It's ironic, really. Running away from a mean man and being picked up by a bunch of wanted criminals. Or- outlaws, as Dutch insists there's a difference. He said things like that a lot. But you didn't mind. If anything, the strongest emotion you felt towards both Dutch and Hosea was gratitude. A second chance at being a kid was more than you could ever ask for.
Though, that all feels like a lifetime ago. You were eleven now! Mature, a big kid, if you've ever seen one.
Something that doesn't feel like a lifetime ago? The day that blonde guy joined the gang. Micah Bell. Everything was so much more peaceful without him. There's been a lot more arguments since he joined camp, you've noticed.
Despite all of your grievances towards ole' Micah Bell, one thing about him always caught your eye. Technically, it wasn't even about him as a person- but instead, his horse. Baylock. You didn't know his steed's name until you heard it in passing. But even before then, you could never keep your eyes off the thing.
He had a sleek black coat, for the most part. There was a splotch of white on a large portion of his head and muzzle, plus white at the bottom of his legs. If the contrast throughout his body wasn't enough, his eyes would certainly make an imprint on anybody. Light blue, icy, cold. Kind of like his owner…
You'd always wanted to get up close to Baylock. Pet him, braid his hair. There was one problem with that, though. You were too scared to get close. From what you've seen, Baylock could be a bit skittish in certain situations. What if a stranger petting him was one of them? And asides from Baylock's reaction, what if Micah got mad? That'd be scary.
Today was a normal day in camp. Bill was drinking, Ms. Grimshaw was nagging at Karen to do more chores, people were going about their day, and Dutch was observing it all while puffing on a cigar. You, however, sat on the ground besides your bedroll, poking at the ground with a stick. Bored didn't even cover half of how you felt. You didn't feel like playing with Jack, you didn't feel like practicing your writing, and you'd already exhausted the option of skipping rocks on the water nearby.
Grumbling, you tossed the stick to the side and let your eyes flicker around camp. Maybe there was some chore you could do? You needed to pull your weight around camp, after all, like all the people you looked up to did.
That's when you saw it. Some hay bales sitting besides Pearson's wagon, just waiting for someone to give them to the horses. Usually Arthur would take care of it, but he was out right now. They were small, and you had picked up bales of that size before. Thinking about the pats on the back that you would recieve at doing something you weren't asked to do was enough to get your feet steering in that direction.
Approaching the bale, you rubbed your hands together, biting the inside of your cheek as you picked it up with a huff. Not being the tallest kid, walking was a little restricted, but you managed fine. Most of your attention was on not letting the weight slip from your arms.
You tentatively made your way through camp, being sure to avoid any rocks or dips in the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was tumble forward and bust your lip- again. It used to be a common occurrence. A rough-and-tumble kid, they would call you.
As your attention bounced between watching the ground and not dropping the bale, a gruff voice took you out of your trance.
"Make sure Baylock gets some of that, hm?"
Your eyes flicked to the source of the voice, and you didn't have to guess who it belonged to. Micah was sat on a large rock oiling one of his guns. A common activity for the blonde. You mumbled an incomprehensible response and slowed to a stop. Could this be taken as an invitation to go dote on Baylock? Or was the request sarcastic? You could never tell, especially considering Micah always had the same tone in his voice and-
"Kid. Watchu starin' at?"
Flinching at the sudden and somewhat hostile tone, you snapped out of your thoughts only to realize you'd been staring at Micah while mulling over if you should go interact with Baylock. You nearly dropped the bale.
"Oh- I…"
You trailed off, voice small. You and Micah had only really interacted a few times, and most of those interactions were only in passing. It was nerveracking to speak to him, like staring evil in the face. Despite that, you swallowed your jitters. Perhaps now would be a good chance to ask? The worst he would do is yell, or make some mocking comment like you had seen him do so many other times. You were prepared for the worst as you spoke.
"Can I pet Baylock?"
"'Scuse me?"
"Baylock. Y'know… your horse?"
"I know who yer talkin' about, kid. I ain't stupid. Why are you wanting to go n' mess with Baylock?"
Micah seemed more puzzled that anything. The kid avoided him like wildfire. Not that he minded, kids weren't who he usually enjoyed the company of.
"W-Well… I think he's real pretty… I'd really like to pet him, o-or braid his hair…"
Micah let out a snort. He seemed amused, perhaps more so at your fear than anything else.
"That so? I reckon I don't have a problem with him gettin' some love. But you sure as hell ain't braiding his hair. Don't need my horse lookin' like he belongs to some woman, or a weak man."
You were getting ready to respond when Micah suddenly stood, towering over you. You took a step back. Micah spoke up, he seemed somewhat annoyed, as if someone were forcing him into this. Nobody was, and the source of his annoyance likely came from the fact that he agreed.
"Don't think I'm lettin' you around him alone. I don't need some snot-nosed kid hurtin' my horse. Besides… I oughtta keep watch n' make sure Baylock don't get spooked n' kick your teeth in. No… Dutch wouldn't be too happy with me 'bout that.'
At the hesitance and subtle fear on your face, Micah let out a snicker. He seemed to find it all too amusing.
"Cmon, Kid." He smacked you roughly on the back in the direction of the horses. "Don't wanna spend all day babysittin'. Hurry it up."
You nod quickly, readjusting your grip on the bale as you walk alongside Micah to where the horses were settled. It wasn't as bad of a reaction as you initially thought, but you were still on edge.
A somewhat awkward silence fell over the both of you, but the tension eased as Micah steered off to go wait besides Baylock, and you went to put the hay in the feeding area. Trotting over to where Baylock and Micah stood, you saw Micah digging in his saddle for something.
"Is he nice?"
Micah ignored your question and instead tossed an apple at you.
"So long as he likes ya. Give him that."
He nudged you forward towards Baylock, who eyed the apple with a stomp of his hoof. Hesitantly, you held out the apple, and Baylock took it from you quickly, chewing it with a slight throw of his head.
"There ya go, kid. Careful when you pet him. I won't feel bad for ya if you end up gettin' knocked on yer ass."
Micah snickered, and you laughed nervously. You were starting to think he only agreed to this so that he could scare you, and it didn't seem to far-fetched. Clenching and unclenching your fist, you reached out and placed a hand on the top of Baylock's muzzle. You ran your hand down gently, perhaps too gently, as Baylock huffed at the contact.
"For god's sake, kid, he ain't gonna crumble. He's a horse, not a doll. Yer ticklin' him. He don't like it."
Smiling shyly, you corrected your mistake, and Baylock seemed to enjoy himself a bit more. You shifted to pet down his neck, turning back to Micah with a smile.
"Where did you find him?"
"Just… around." His vague answered caused you to tilt your head. You didn't have much time to think on it before Micah continued. "I've had him fer a while. Finest horse on this side of New-Hanover. Hell- this side of the country."
You couldn't help but giggle at his insistence, and perhaps overconfidence. But you didn't argue. You didn't imagine it would end well.
A few more minutes passed, spent by doting on Baylock while Micah kept an eye on you. The gruff sound of a voice clearing caught your attention, and you looked towards Micah once more.
"You done yet? I ain't too fond of standin' here, twiddling my thumbs."
"Hehe… Sorry. I'll wrap it up."
You stepped away from Baylock, but not before giving Baylock a final pat on the neck.
"Thanks for letting me pet him!! It was real kind of you, Micah!"
You smiled up at Micah, a little too close for comfort. Micah stiffened somewhat, not too sure of himself when it came to handling over excited children.
"Don't go getting attached now, kid. Don't need ya over here constantly, you hear? Baylock don't like bein' crowded."
He nudged you away, but you hardly noticed. After all, you finally got to pet Baylock! And your teeth didn't get knocked in, like Micah said they might. But you had a hunch he only said that to you to get you nervous.
"Oh- sure- I understand! When I finally get my own horse, I wouldn't want anyone making them upset, either."
"Good. Go on now. And don't come botherin' me again, I'm busy."
Micah's voice came out in a grumble, and the two of you went on your way. Micah to go finish up his gun maintenance, and you to go sit with your satisfaction.