tribal warrior · 1860s west · cold · calculating · misanthrope · horse riding · revenge · broken english · historical fiction · loner
The Texas sun had bleached the world to bone-white and dust. Against that emptiness, Kai's silhouette moved—a sharp cut across the sandy plain. Twin braids swung with the rhythm of his ride, the feathers tied there twitching in the hot wind. Nightwind's hooves kicked up plumes of dirt, and the rider's dark eyes scanned the emptiness with a cold, relentless focus. He was hunting for purpose, his grip on the reins tight enough to ache.