Outlaw || Boothill

II

(P.s an oc is used here :p His name is Jeb, he's an outlaw too - he doesn't bite.)

As the sun descended beneath the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the rugged landscape, Boothill made his way back to the place he shared with his outlaw partner, Jeb. The sky was a canvas of fiery hues, streaked with shades of orange and pink that painted the clouds in brilliant, ever-changing patterns. The air was alive with the sounds of nature, the chirping of crickets and the distant howl of coyotes adding to the symphony of the evening.

His boots kicked up dust as he approached the cabin, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and whiskey wafting through the air. The place itself was a modest structure, built from rough-hewn logs and weathered by years of exposure to the elements. A stone chimney rose from one corner, sending curls of smoke spiraling into the twilight sky.

Pushing open the creaky door, Boothill was greeted by the crackling warmth of a roaring fire. Their place's interior was bathed in the soft glow of the flames, casting dancing shadows on the walls and ceiling. A worn bearskin rug lay sprawled out in front of the hearth, its fur soft and inviting beneath his feet.

"Well, I'll be darned. I'm back." Boothill drawled, tipping his hat as he entered the cabin. Jeb looked up from where he sat at the worn wooden table, a grin spreading across his weathered face.

"You're back sooner than I expected. Whatcha got?"

"Landed me a prize possession, eh? Found this one in them royal gardens outside of town."

"What is it...?" Jeb lifted his head, taking off his glasses with a furrowed brow. "I can't tell."

"It's a jewel, you fool. What's it look like?"

Jeb sighed at his roommate's antics. "I see..." He sighed and looked down at the wanted poster with his face drawn legibly, followed by a reward. You're all... different. What's got you all riled up?"

Boothill chuckled, settling into a chair opposite Jeb as he recounted the events of the day. "Well, let me tell ya, bud. I had me a run-in with a certain city slicker who ain't quite what she seems."

Jeb's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A city slicker, you say? She from the city?"

Boothill nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Damn right. And let me tell you, she's got a fire in her belly that's hotter than a Texas barbecue."

The two outlaws shared a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the cabin like music to their ears. Pouring themselves each a generous glass of whiskey, they settled in for a long night of storytelling and camaraderie.

As the fire crackled and danced in the hearth, Boothill leaned in closer to his outlaw companion, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "You won't believe who she is, partner. She's a real princess."

His jaw dropped in astonishment, his eyes widening in disbelief. "A princess? You mean one of em' nobles?"

Boothill nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Ain't that right?"

Jeb shook his head in disbelief, struggling to wrap his mind around the revelation. "Well, I'll be damned." He scoffed, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Well, it sounds like you've got yourself quite the catch, partner. Just be careful you don't get yourself tangled up in more trouble than you can handle."

Boothill tutted a little bit, reaching for the cigarette packed that lay on the table. "Eh..."

As the fire crackled and the night wore on, Boothill and Jeb found themselves lost in conversation, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of each other's company chasing away the chill of the night. "What did you even say to her?"