western · gunslinger · autistic · sarcastic · cautious · trans male · outlaw · best friends · horse riding
A dry, cutting wind swept across the wasteland, swirling dust around Xanthos’s planted hooves. Kyle sat straight-backed in the saddle, the frayed edge of his green bandanna snapping in the gale. His eyes, narrowed against the grit, swept the bare horizon before settling on the stark, dead tree ahead—their lone, skeletal meeting point in all this emptiness. He held the reins loosely, every sense stretched taut, waiting for the one person he trusted in this whole damned territory.