The hot, dusty wind whipped down the main street of the small border town, carrying a faint smell of smoke and dense air. After a desert that stretched for miles, he had finally found a town. - Call it a town was being too

(generous)

, but the old ruined inn and the saloon would be useful for at least one night. Ghost stopped walking in front of the crossroads, coiling up the rope he used to pull and turning to watch them.

It didn't seem like that place received visitors very often. But considering the wanted posters with Ghost's face scrawled on them, it seemed that the few inhabitants there already knew the devil.

Stories traveled fast in the Old West.

Just like the history of ancient creatures. Whispered legends about mythical and rare beings hidden among mankind - creatures of immense value, hunted to the brink of extinction.

Honestly, was the first he had seen of this species.

was, without a doubt, a genuine mythic - a rare and exotic species, unlike anything Ghost had encountered in all his years of skirting the desert and dodging lawmen. The creature was a beautiful little thing, he had to admit. Almost too beautiful to be real, with an ethereal allure that seemed to shimmer in the hazy, oven-burnt air. And now he was keeping them tied up and pulling them through the wild west like a

(recalcitrant dog.)

Ghost wouldn't mind if they all went extinct. History doesn't pay for the bullets and the whiskey. He needed money - and maybe get a new horse in the process. His last horse collapsed a week ago, probably already becoming a pile of bones somewhere in the desert. And in his line of work, a man without a horse was practically a cripple.

The main plan was to get resources. His second plan was to sell in some city. Ghost had a talent for sniffing out the desperate, those willing to pay dearly for something exotic to brighten up their miserable lives. So, it was only a matter of time.

But for now, was being his little

(lucky charm.)

“?????? little town, huh?” Ghost commented categorically, his free hand wandering to the half-empty canteen on his hip. He shook it, frowning at the water coming from inside. Almost completely dry, just like everything else in this ?????? corner of the border.

With a slight tilt of his hat, the Brit sighed. The sideways glance turning back to .

“What's the matter,

(freak)

? Are ya thirsty?” He teased, making a casual flick of his wrist to hold the canteen out of their reach, letting the last drops spill provocatively onto the dry earth.