Sun and Bone

by batflower_maccarson

Summary:

Out law Wemmbu is on a quest to figure out who this new outlaw is. One that is a ghost in human cloths. But as he hunts soon a new danger is seen. Will him and this Ghost work together for the common goal. Or will all there spoils end up in the bottom of the Bliss river.

Notes:

Or I realy wanted to write a western story, and a wemmbu fic so I made it both. Im super exsited to see where this goes. Like very much, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1: Ghost

Sun blazed down onto his neck, blistering the sands into the ash dust. Tumble weeds stormed by like the plague that scorched down onto the fool.

His eyes narrowed as he rode alongside the old railway. The storm echoing alongside the trample of rocks.

Horns howling down the line as the steam engine roared to life. He smirked as he looked towards the boxcar with his prize.

He patted the midnight stallion back before leaping onto the deck of a car. His lips crinkled into a smile, under the mask that hid his identity.

Thunder cracked against the looming skies of old. Deserts dust closed around the train towards the bridge.

He had five minutes to get in, grab the box and to get out. Simple as that.

Racing towards the door, his jimmy heaving in its places alongside his holster. Only way in, by force. He pried open the door with rust and gusto.

Inside the darkness a simple treasure upon the rocks….resting in the gloved hands of a thief.

Resting against the box frame. Shoulder square, crystal blue eyes crinkled in delight on the pale skin. “Wemmbu.”

Wemmbu groaned loudly as he stalked towards the other. “You do not, just steal another man's treasure.”

He blinked small before yawning into the crook of his arm. “Boring, I'll be on my way.” He gave a mock salute, tossing back the gem.

Wemmbu fumbled with the gem as he watched the boy clad in white walk away. Just like that, no fight. He stared eyes wide as the boy vanished into the dust clouds.

“What the hell?” He frowned, eyes narrowing as he stuffed the gem into his pocket. The horn signaled again as it raged towards the ever closer bridge.

He had to get off now. Sprinting out onto the deck leaping over the connections to the edge of the cart.

Come on, where was Tempest? He frantically looked towards the caboose. There racing alongside the train, mane dark, hoofs pounding.

Wemmbu's eyes lit up as he darted towards the caboose. His mask flapping in the wind.

 

“They call him Wemmbu, the storm chaser. Strongest outlaw this side of the Unstable mountains.”

 

He slammed open the batwing doors. Shuttering the building as he marched towards the back. The music from the piano stopped for the briefest moment. As the albino player looked up. Eyes shed with fear.

Rested against the spruce bar. Clawed hands cleaning the clear glasses. The red leather jacket pulled tight as he watched the other like a hawk. “Same as usual?”

Wemmbu sat quickly as he rubbed his hands together. “Yes.” He groaned as he slumped down onto the counter.

Another patron sat beside him with a grin as wide as the Bliss river. “Let me guess the white ghost was there again?” Spoke equipped with a long sip of his drink.

“Yes! Every single time that same old smug. Sapphire blue eyes that want to ruin my life. Oh and the fact he just appears no horse no nothing. Like the ghost shit he is.” He ranted as his drink was placed down in front of him. Downing half of it in one go. The whiskey burned in all the right places.

Spoke turned to Clown as he scrunched up his face before turning it into a crooked smile. Clown nodded as he looked back at Wemmbu.

Compared to all the other outlaws he'd served. Wemmbu was by the far the most young and deranged. If there was anything he could do. It would be to stop him from walking down the same road he had.

“Have you thought about trapping this…” Clown turned to Spoke.

The ash haired man tilted his head to the side sending a rush of sand into the air. “Phantom Mesa?”

“Thank you.” He looked back over to Wemmbu and the now empty glass. “Are you going to sit there moping around cus you can't find this Sunset Ghost or are you going to be happy you got the gem..You did get the gem right?”

Wemmbu looked up, his dark amber eyes staring up at Clown. He nodded and tugged out the moss green gem. It glistened in the light. He mumbled stuff as he reached for his empty glass.

Spoke carefully moved it out of the boy's reach. He gave a pathetic glare as he continued to try and grab the glass. It wasn't his fault he was a lightweight. Spoke sighed as he snatched up a small bottle of what seemed to be milk and poured it into a clean glass.

Clown hummed in agreement as he studied the gem. He held it up to the dusty lamp. Small specs of crystallized bugs shadowed the counter. It was almost right. In small neat words stamped into the side. ‘Catch me if you can.’

“Spoke…”Clown warned as he gave the same old eye twitch that mentioned danger. “Do me a favor and watch Wemmbu. Don't let him into the wine cabinet. I need to ask someone something."He informed, before hanging up his mud stained apron on the back of a chair.

He disappeared into the back of the saloon. Behind the staff only doors. Music continued to play its haunting melodies as rumors of old dipped its nasty claws into the towns folks hearts.

 

The ever raging storm pounding on doors. Winds tearing at the shingles as rain slapped against windows.

“Storms follow that kid like a plague.”

Horses whimpered in shelters, chickens clucked in awe as rain washed away the tracks of a ghost.

“I think we might be in for it.”

Rumors danced around brushing close to the truth. So that maybe in a small saloon with outlaws and dangers. Perhaps it's just the beginning.

Deep on the hills above the valley, riding high on the back of an ivory horse. Facing towards the next greatest game. He winked before vanishing into the storms above.

A ghost if you would, one that might even give the storm chaser a run for his money.

Chapter 2: Sunrise

Notes:

Oo crap two chapters in two days...wow. yeah currently on a western kick so yeah we get more mystery and chaos. Hope you enjoy

Wemmbu stumbled awake. Eyes bloodshot and stuffy. The world around him blurred as he tumbled towards the door. He glared down at his pajamas, they had small horses and trains dotted on the fabric.

Spokes abnormal whistle sounded from down the stairs. He was staying in Clowns guest room that had basically become his. He lazily walked down to the small kitchenette that housed the food that Clown had left them.

Spoke smiled as he watched Wemmbu sleepily pad in. “You sleep well?” He questioned as he stured the boiling pot of cactus soup.

Memories of his dream flashed by. Small kisses to the temple. A woman with long brown hair. Every time he tried to look at her face he would wake up.

The same dream of him being dropped off by this woman by the front of a burning fireplace. It glows hot and humid as if it was real.

Yet every time it slipped away, he never knew her, never saw her but she kept showing up deep in his dreams. It was the same dream he got every night.

A ghost of something more. Between this and the Sunset Ghost he had enough drama and mystery to figure out.

“Just the same, Spoke nothing knew.” He replied as he turned to face the splintering ash wood walls. Each having different marks of moments in time. His lips turned to a quiet smile as he difrent towards the window.

Under the rays of sun a couple plants blossomed and grew. From the spider lily to a pepper plant. These were Branzy's, he had been taking care of them for over twenty five years. Gently he plucked a ruby red pepper and tossed to Spoke.

Spoke snatched it and begain to chop it up into small pieces. He chuckled and sprinkles them into the pot of crushed up
cactus. Its collar shifting into a dark green

“When's Clown and Branzy getting back?” Wemmbu asked as he tugged on his hat. A dark brown cattlemans, with purple feathers tucked to the side. He needed to be ready for the day ahead.

“I think bout a week or three. Depends on how much the informant wants to talk.” Spoke humed as he let the soup boil.

“Three weeks!” Wemmbu whined as he pulled on his vest. Stupid buttons and stupid ghosts.

“I know, I dont like it either.”

Wemmbu groaned as he strapes on his holster and grabbed his gun. A nice polished pistol with the Snakes Den insignia on the handle. Two double headed snakes in the form of a S. He smiled at the familiar weight.

 

In the saloon the bell rang. Its rusty echo to a simple chime. It rang twice before stopping.

Spoke looked up as he dusted his hands on his navy pants. “Now I wonder who that could be.” His smile turned into a shit eating grin.

Wemmbu followed the other to the front of the Snakes Den. The hall that connected the two sides of he build where worn with age and drawing. Dozens of them, moments in time that Branzy or Clown would make. If they where done at the Snake for the day.

Leaning agest the conter eyes pitched in annoyance. Hat held low over the brim of bright carmel covered curls. Slowly the man stood up, eyes as bright as fresh grass. The simple bage held tight on his vest. “Spoke.” The word was laced with poison.

“Sheriff Parrot. What can I do to help a cutie like you.” Spoke sung as he stuck the end of a weat in his mouth. His pupils dilated more that usual.

“You know exactly why.” Parrot hissed as he slamed a lasso down. “You keep tieing up the littles.”

Spokes eyes beamed, as he grabbed his lasso. The one that belonged on his belt. “Ive been wondering where this beauty went. Guess it ended up with a handsome lad.” He looked it onto its place on his hip as he winked at Parrot.

“You said you'd stop, but I keep getting conplaints from the mother's…” he glared.

Spoke paused as he batted his lashes.” I did say that cutie, but it did end up with a nice visit from you. So in the end it's worth it.”

Parrot sighed as he hooked a finger under Spoke chin only to be used to slame him into the conter. The wood creaking as his head hit.

Wemmbu winced as he watched Spoke mummble worth it from his place firmly agest the polished wood.

From under the batwing doors several faces poked out. Two to be exact, each pairing to try and hear the conversation.

One with bright eyes and chubby cheeks. Had chunks missing from his dark bushy eyebrows. Beside him a girl with twin braids and a twisted smirk as she watched.

The door creaked ever the slightest for another pair of faces to look in. A gruff and frowny face paired with golden eyes. Under him was an annoyed looking boy. His blonde hair falling in front of his eyes as he tried to wiggle closer.

Wemmbu turned back to look at Spoke who was still smiling up at Parrot, even with his missing tooth and a red patch on his face.

“What cha think of being my sweet as I make us some drinks?” He offered. The same wild glint in his eyes. Something that would never go out, even if the odds had death as the winner.

Parrot slapped him again as he turned. Pulling his hat down lower to cover twitch in his eyes.

Spoke frowned as he carefully tried to turn Parrot to look at him.”You knows im sorry if it really is that much of a pain in the ass.”

Parrot muttered something under his breath as he looked fully at the door. His eyes went wide as he spotted the littles eavesdropping on his and Spokes conversations. “You did not..”

The littles that had been watching all sprinted up, screaming high pitched. All clearly knowing if they got caught their fun would end. “Cheese it!” ”We're going to die!” “Someone grab Dean!” They darted off.

Parrot groaned as he slumped against the cold top. He was never paid enough for dealing with that gangle of trouble.

Spoke un hooked his lasso as he wiped towards the door. A shadow casted towards the rising sun. Dust staggering up off the ground as the man sauntered.

“Spoke. Don't.” Parrot warned, already out of his chair.

Spoke turned with a crooked, bloody grin. He stepped out into the sun. His body casted in the warm glow only causing his shadow to grow.

He spun the lasso, once, twice. Launched it after a little. High pitch screams etched from the town as he started to collect the children.

One by one he grabbed up and tied them to a nearby tree.

Inside the Snake Den Saloon, Parrot stopped by the door with a long winded sigh. It wasn't that Spoke was bad at getting the children home. It was more so he was too good, and his methods were a bit strange.

Wemmbu edged closer to the sheriff. His hand clutching the end of his cuff sleeve. “You know he means well.”

“Thats the problem.” Parrot muttered to himself. “We already have ghosts."

Notes:

Littles information cuz they are adorable.

Leo-tough, wants to become the next sheriff. Hates bad doing. His has the only horse out of the gang. Named Reaper a black and white stalon.

Theo-Smart loves and wants to become an outlaw , always butting heads with Leo. Parrot's nephew.

Dean-Half the time lost, plays peace maker between Leo and Theo. Is Theo's brother. Wants to become the best gunslinger this side of the Unstable mountains

Nufuli-Shitish, scared cat, good guy. Always following the others around to get them out of trouble. Has a pet vaulter named pickles

The Twins

Jumper-older, can read. Doesn't want to be treated like a lady but will abuse the fact you can't punch a lady. Teases Derap none stop. Has a small lasso, looks up to Spoke.

Derap-teasing everyone, gets gaged by Spoke when tied up. Missing chunks from eyebrows. Is the only one that can sweet talk even if he's found annoying.

 

Hope you enjoyed!! Bats out :]

Chapter 3: Storm

Notes:

We have a new chapter!!! Three let's go,im hoping you will enjoy it. Also some of the chapter will have breaks between uploads cuz school, and my brain hyper focused on RHC(Red Heart Casino) dont worry tho, ill still be posting the western gays...nope I ment guys yeah

Wemmbu groaned from his slumped down state at the counter. His forgotten glass shining in the dim light of the moon. He blinked rapidly as he ran a hand down his face. Only to stop at the small stubble that was growing.

He wasn't a nasty outlaw that never bathed, it was just he had forgotten to shave this month. So the hair was growing in more thick.

A muffled crash of barrels sounded from outside. Only to be followed with a loud gunshot. The shot flared lighting up windows.

He shot up quickly, eyes and body bolting towards the dirt covered doors. Derap burst out from behind the doors. Arms flapping as he stormed towards Wemmbu. His spotted eyebrows scrutched up.

He stared down at the Little, as thunder roared overhead. Derap flinched tightly as he lowered to the ground. Eyes wide and glossy.

Lightning exploded inwards sending shards up into the air.

He leaped forwards, covering the other tightly. Dozens of the shards logged deep in his skin. Blood trickling out from the gashes.

“What in hell's name is going on.” Spoke stumbled in. Smoke wafting up from his hair. His eyes narrowed as the small specs of moon light danced off the shards. “Holy hell!” He sprinted.

Wemmbu groaned as he unfurled around Derap. His back spiking in pain, hot molten liquid dripped onto the scorched ground. “Round up the kids, I'm going to help.” He shouted over the raging storm.

He sprinted off towards the blistering rain. Hat flapping in the pounding winds. As he vanished in the lashing storm.

 

“Storms Chaser.”

 

If the name meant anything to anyone, then it sure as hell meant the truth. Built on years of trust as old as the rivers deep. To the grand tick of time for what awaits a name with no meaning.

Some would say he was born of demon descent. Others say he was a gift from a god, a protector for a small town. In the end some truths stay hidden in the deepest mines waiting to be uncovered.

 

Wemmbu narrowed his eyes. Rain rushed down soaking his clothes into a second skin. He hissed, the frozen water clawing at his spine.

Tempest barreled down the streets. Hoofs pounding in the mud as he gallops towards the distant hills. Cattle, slowly moving towards the town. Only for the raging thunder to scare them away.

His scenes burn with information. Villagers to the left, storms above, Tempest below. He huffed a breath as the boy and horse roared along the trail.

Between the pounding of rain a small cry cut through the storm. Weak and lost as it pleaded for help.

Wemmbu froze as lightning exploded a nearby tree. Splintering it into a blaze of warmth. Deep aching pain flared high as the shards of glass logged closer to bone.

Tempest bolted down the edge of the valley. Ears trained on the cries. Man and beast both hunting for the same thing.

Between the mists of the storm a boy curled tight hands gripping torn fabric. Winds tipping his feet from under him.

“Dean.” He whispered as he reached down and extended to grab the boy as they ran past. Every time he would get lost asking about the ghost man.

Spoke was better with kids, always had been. Clown tough as nails never took no for an answer. Branzy had a heart as emotion filled as the iron sky's.

Yet he was just Wemmbu, an outlaw, a child born from the desert sun. Forged in the heat of hell. Always hunting for answers in the stones.

Pain cursed threw his body as roars flashed on. Rocks tumbling down the side of the Mountains. Each the size of a bear, barreling towards the trio.

“Run!” He shouted, pulling tight on the rains. Thunder bellowed, shaking the valley deep. Mist hung low as he gripped the Little. No time no death, he had to go.

Tempest raced on. Hoofs sticking in the mud. Each second a battle raging on. The shake of the world, resting on its hinges.

Off towards the desert deep.

Lightning crashed down. Blazing hot in fiery white. Burning the ground into dust. Warmth, safe and sound by the candle light.

Tall and kind, amber eyes tired and worn. Helping him to the fires edge. A place of love, laughter and a spirit free.

Home

One of many years ago, in place of time. Who was she? Feather light touches the crested face. Mystic light purring behind to illuminate the land below.

“Stead fast, control the winds. Be one with the tides.”

His eyes stared open. All the sounds crashing down. The steady pounding of his heart burning deep in his ears.

He was the Storm Chaser, a boy born by fire and rain. He controlled the way of the winds.

He was Wemmbu…just Wemmbu.

Tempest leaped over fallen tumble weeds. The rocks chasing behind the trio. Each breathing fast as dust flashed in the eyes.

His grip tossed as the horse turned quickly. “Grab on.” He ordered the Little. Eyes filled with pure terror.

Dean nodded as he wrapped his hand around the rains. The leather corset and worn in his small hands.

“Whatever you do, do not let go.”Wemmbu huffed. Storms raging high, landslides chasing the group. Town. They had to make it to town.

The world slowed. Rain freezes into a gentle flow. Thunder half formed as lightning strikes down.

Dean had to make it home.

He could last, he always did. Winds lashed forwards biting at his neck. God's speed.

He leaped off Tempest into the mud below. The midnight stallion vanished into the downpour.

He'd be alright, he had to be. Shivers ran high as he began to run. Towards a place of warmth.

Molten pain exploded down. Rocks slamming against his skull. Shards cracking down his spine.

Blurs of colors fading out. To only the blackest world. One of the stars. A place to rest.

Lights strung together as his body floated through the eternal abyss. Warmth seeping down his blood strung arms.

Soft breeze, feather light as it casted down onto the beach's end. Ocean waves lapping on the silky sand.

Heat baring down onto his head. In gentle waves, nothing like the desert sun. Seagulls sounded high before flying away.

At the end of the water staring at the inky waves. A small smile hidden under a veil of mist. Pure blue eyes turning to fully look at the outlaw.

“You're an idiot for trying to die.” The ghost teased as he walked over. Robes of white casting down over the small frame.

“You!” Wemmbu groaned as he slapped his face. Why the hell was ghost here of all god damn places.

Ghost ignored him in favor of pushing him towards the oceans edge. The ground sank around him, trapping him in the oceans deep.

Boiling water bubbled wild as waves crashed overhead. Dragging him deeper and deeper.

Gasping for air as water pushed deeper in. Choking out in the thick inky waves. Down into the eternal darkness.

Notes:

So let's go, the storm and bits of lore.

But like yeah its fun, I cant wait for four..hint we learn Ghosts real name.

Who said that, any way have a good day or night. Bats out :]

Chapter 4: Days

Notes:

Well its been a bit, sorry for the late upload. School and other stuff came first so this sliped my mind.
Again soryy

Ghost sat comfortable on the back of Blizzard, her snow white mane flowing in the feather light winds. The air is humid and lip cracking. Not like his lips weren't already on par with the desert.

Slowly Blizzard trotted down the side of the valley edge. His home, or camp if you would. The place he retired to on the hardest nights when the stars weren't the best comfort.

He sighed looking down at the soft fuzzy white fur. He smiled and gave her a pat on the back as they continued to ride along the non-existing trail. The same red stone and yellow clay painting the desert sands with a familiar gaze.

Deep in the valley's heart the blue sky shifted to the dark ash clouds as the rumble of thunder crashed down the mountain's edge. A wave of dust springing up into the distance air.

His eyes narrowed against the rays of the silver moon light. His shoulder aching with sun burns, years of living alone in the sun grown world prepared you for. He rubbed the blisters with the back of his hand. Under the layers of fabric he wore. That had been stained the same way twice before.

It was stained with pus and blood. The liquids curled in between his fingers. “That's gross."he mumbled and wiped the fibers on his pant leg. The red and yellow joined the dust that painted anything that moved.

His face was cold, frown lines tracing his features that used to shine before he bored that train many nights ago. Long before he had become the Storm Chaser's greatest rival. When he had just arrived as that weird city kid.

Did he miss the bustle of wagons and the clusters of people trying to steal a nickel or a shed of desence? Nah he didn't think that life was fun but the road never gave you the sense of freedom running down a cliff side to catch a train with the precious Nature Diamond.

He smiled lightly that it was the greatest thing he'd stolen to date. Wemmbu didn’t even put up a fight when he was given the fake diamond. The look on his face was priceless.

The scrunched up eyebrows and the puff of his cheeks. To even the confusion that danced in his eyes. Oh and the cherry on top was that he didn't even feel the engravement of the message.

He was stupid and yet he never gave up. Wemmbu the Storm Chaser. Cheesy, in that way that was your mom giving you the nickname sweety or honey bell.

His lips twisted into a small smile as Blizzard trotted a bit faster. “Girl you think we can make it back to camp before that nasty storm hits?”

Blizzard began to turn into a gallop as they turned back up the hidden trail to their base of operation. The dust flew up as the mare rocketed up the hill.

Ghost giggled as he held on tight with his leg. The steady pounding of hoofs along the stone and dirt below. It always reminds him that in the valley you were free.

The trickle of rain drops stained his shirt. Soaking his hat before flowing down the edges of his blisters. Shivers running up his spine with a very frozen drop.

Off toward the setting the sun. The rumble in the heavens cracked open the sky as the showers slammed down onto the ground. Winds thrashing against his neck. Each whip felt as if it had knives that sucked into the skin to unleash its deadly venom.

He hissed as the downbursts continued to chew up the remaining clothes he had. The ends fraying in the mud that piled high.

The flash of lightning exploded the earth as it scorched the rock beneath. It echoes one of sorrow and mystery as thunder roared by. Kings of nature tide together. One the destroyer well the other created the fear behind the name.

He hummed quietly to steady Blizzard as she made her way towards the rocky side of the cliff. Between the stones as. An archway formed by the landslides that shaped the earth. Under the watchful waves of sky a cave would await.

Thunder roared like a cannon shot as the sky rimpled into the darkest shade of black he’d screen. From the candle light in the distance the small town Life steals. The town that gave you a new chance from the past you left.

Even between the heart ache and pains the western world brings. A sense of freedom he had never felt before. Back when he was just a kid in a big world with to big dreams. Yet he never had an outlet until he hitched a ride on that train.

Steam shooting up from the engine as it raced along the twisting tracks. The urban plains filled with places and names he knew. Shifting turned from plain to hills that flourished with forests. To the snowy mountains tops of the eastern Unstable.

So that young kid that hitched a ride with the only clothes being the soot covered one on his back. He arrived in the bubbling out back of desert castles that were nestled in between the mountains.

The same ones that regularly had landslides..

His eyes narrowed to the shadowed region. A roaring slide of rocks rocketed towards.. A blur, misted over by the splatter of rain and sleet.

The midnight blur sprang towards the small town. Lightning shooting down as Tempest dodged in favor of.. Was that a child! Wait, where's Wemmbu?

Why wasn't he on the stallion's back?

Panic zipped into his blood stream as he tugged Blizzard towards the racing stallion….had something taken out the Storm Chaser?

He froze, heart sinking as the doubts and questions shot like bullets. Where was he?

E-No ghost paused, his eyes glossing over. Why did he care? This was just some stupid guy he teased whenever he could. Nothing more. That's what she told him. Wemmbu was just an annoying stepping stool to get what he wanted.

Blizzard nipped at his ear. Her hoof stomped the ground. As thunder screamed loud as the same strike of blistering white hot scorched the ground.

 

His eyes closed as he took a breath to calm his racing heart. Blood boiling turned a frozen wasteland under the tan skin.drawing in the fresh soaked air. Between the raging storm he could become calm. That's what he needed.

Not the steady fire that burned under the face he wore as the ghost. He needed that calmness that wasn't used for years at a time. He needed the wit from his days before the desert, before everything back in the shell chaos that was the city streets.

Back to a time when he had a name no one knew, to the days when even the most skilled city thefts, didn't realize it was the scrawny kid.

He needed to become something that could fight the raging storms within. As well as the blistering hunt of death that followed all outlaws like a plague.

He was about to do something stupid. Maybe even a bit crazy. Up side the old head on his shoulder. Between the purely white hair that lay hidden under the same purple hat he’d had stolen months ago.

He leaped off of Blizzard, rolling into a sprint between the pounding of the rain. The distinct sound of drums. The wide spread of the city sprawling out in front as the desert shifts to a way he was born in.

He may have learned and become on with the desert but that doesn't stop the raging burn from the place he had been raised in.

Stead fast with the chaos within, nothing can cage the being of storm. The god stubborn outlaws Wemmbu. With his perfect scars and gentle, tough hands.

Each making him more and more annoying. He groaned as he leaped over the tumble weeds. The onslaught chasing him. He winced at the streaming frosty rain. Each drop burned his shoulders.

Blizzard raced after him. As he neared the area that Tempest had left in.

God why in the nine city was he helping that son of bitch and bastard of boy. He was nothing more than a rival in the stone walls. A face he would forget when he was old and dead.

Dropping down into the silt he slid down one of the smaller hills. Down face first in the mud, eyes closed. Blood pooling down his torn jacket from twelve glass shards. Each one stained in browns and reds.

“God.” he drew out as he carefully poked the other. Not a sound or a movement. He winced as he drew the taller up. His shoulders buzzed in protest as he tugged the man to the top of the hill.

His dark hair plastered tight onto his peaceful face. His lips were chapped and covered in small bite marks. Of course this guy bit his lips.

He wiped the mud from his cheek as the wind echoed around them. Mixing with Blizzards whinnies as she waited atop the hill. She was covered in a thick layer of red grime.

He chuckled as his own hair began to plastered itself firmly to his forehead. The ivory strains staining with the muck into a sheen pink.

Wemmbu's eyes slurred open as his mouth formed the word you. As he became a more heavy dead weight. His eyes crossed in the way you would for a concussion.

God all nightly this guy was stupid. He trailed to the top of the hill to the white mare. “I think we should go back to town. This guy needs proper-”

Lighting crashed down striking beside the trio. Blizzard jumped and ran off her flowing mane matted in the wind as she ran.

He blinked slowly as he watched her run off. Could this day get any worse. He huffed pulling the other outlaw closer as he began his trek.

The town was closer on horse back but the mountains dangerous and cruel had more caves that they could hunker out in for the night. When the storm was over he was ditching Wemmbu at Life Steal and leaving. He didn't need extra weight dragging him down.

Every step up the slope caused the small tremors to form in his legs. Each one making him pause to breathe. This was bad. His back burned the shirt that clung tight itching as it pressed the coarse dirt deeper into the scabs.

Fuck this was bad. He stiffed the smallest sound. It was drowned out by the howling of the storm. Why did his life end up like this? He is a blasted h-outlaw. Most of which hunted down hybrids for sport. Sold their wings, and horns.

Wemmbu would definitely sell out a hybrid given the chance. every one did they had bounties on their bloody heads for being born by man and nature. Back in the city, the smallest flashes of chains and the selling of horns and wings.

He shuttered as his back flexed against the rope that was tied tight under his damp clothes. One he had tied himself tight enough to cut off circulation if he pulled.

He closed his eyes. Legs wobbling like a dow in spring. Everything hurt the ache in his shoulders down the blood soaking through his shirt.

“You.”Wemmbu mumbled, his nose burning further into the soaked shirt. His tan fingers shivered before gripping around the fabric.

Chills roared up his spine as he watched the feared outlaw grab tight. As if afraid to lose him to the storm. Its winds dragging clawed hands to the warm buzzing skin.

“Its Egg.”he mumbled the correction. His back twitched carelessly as they neared the cliff ledge. Cave be cave come on. He pleaded eyes scanning over the mesa.

Deep between the rushing streams. Each one a misty teal the mouth of the cave forming from behind the trickling water.

Egg paused a smile of relief tugging at his lips as he held Wemmbu tighter. They just might make it. He pressed the warm body closer.

His steps still wobbled but with that small faction of hope he worked closer. Each thud of his boats echoing on the vermillion stone below.

One step at a time they made their way to the outlook. He smiled softly as he gently rested the outlaw on his side to try and not push the shards in. Blood stained his hands as he watched the small strains of the brunette hair fall into his face.

His eyes narrowed at the cold that clawed at his skin. Wemmbu was really warm. He wanted to curl up in warmth. Any wood nearby would be of no use.

He cooed softly. It was perfectly warm. He smiled happily as his hands carefully un-tied the rope.

No one would know. He tugged off the tattered shirt and let it fall to the cold ground. The rope slid from his hands to join the pile.

From his back the marks and scars from battles. A single feather floated to the floor. The same ivory cream color painted the soft damp feather. A pair of wings rested limp at his side as he watched the outlaw sleep.

Chest rising and falling like the seasons. The gentle calm pattern. As the man slept. The dark bags under his eyes seemed to fade.

Egg watched carefully, not ready to disturb his sleep. His eyes dilated for a moment, just before he curled up under the other's chin. Warmth slowly cooled down the raging storm inside his brain.

“Still my rival.”he murmured as he nuzzled closer, his wings draping over Wemmbu. Forming a cocoon of sorts. A quick nap wouldn't hurt. He purred as a yawn made its way out of him.

But even in sleep a rival is dangerous…..

Notes:

Wow we wow. Lots of things have happened this chapter. (Stares at Egg) to no one's surprise he is the ghost and well...yeah. anyway hope you all are have the best day or night.

Bats out :]

Notes:

God damn the first chapter is out. All the secrets are still left to be uncovered. I do hope I left enough clues for you to figure out who are lovely ghost is. Dont worry this is just a beginning into this universe.
Bats out :]