Blake turned a bit in her sleep. She grunted before deciding to wake up. The sun was bright as usual but that didn't mean that she could not see the three silhouettes looming over her. Blake jumped from her spot and muttered a string of cuss words. Her swearing woke up the others; Japhet screeched a little. "Ey! Wha' th' hell?!" she yelled. John sat up straight and raised his hands to show he wasn't armed.
"What the hell's goin' on?!" John asked.
"Don' ask me!" Blake replied.
The gang was surrounded by unrecognizable people. They were dressed either in rags or exotic clothing; their skin all tanned; have bright or dark eyes, dark or light hair; short or long hair; some wore bandanas over their heads.
Davison could tell right away they weren't natives. "Alrigh' look. I dunno where y'all came from- nor how y'all found us- but we ain't gonna be lookin' for a fight right now. So could y-"
One of them jabbed his gun right at Blake's face and said something in a language that neither of them could recognize. "WHOA! Watch where ya point that thing!" she said suddenly. The same man turned to another and said something in that same language. Blake leaned towards John and muttered, "When do ya think's a good time to run?"
John shrugged and replied, "Once they're distracted is my best bet."
"That's yer plan?" she said frustratedly.
"Well what other time did ya think was best?!"
An exotic heard them speaking and he hit Blake with the back of his rifle. "Ow!" she winced, "Hit him not me!" The same man said in English, "You traveled in gypsy territory. You must leave now or we'll bring you to our camp!"
"Least we know they speak English…," Blake muttered. Her back was greeted with the butt of a rifle. "Ow! Rude!"
"You all! Come with us!"
"Well I guess tha' wasn't an option…"
She got hit again.
"Would you stop it!?"
…
…
…
The gang trekked to the camp the nomads lead them to, their hands tied together. They conversed in the foreign language the gang had heard earlier. Their journey was a little long and overbearing. The heat of the sun was beating down on them all, their feet were dragging them, and they were sweating like pigs. Blake glanced her eyes at the head of the group.
He had tanned skin; raven black hair tied back in a ponytail under a dark hat; he had a golden hoop earring on his left ear; he only wore a dark vest, dark pants and boots.
She sighed as they finally arrived to the camp. Actually, it really didn't even look like a camp. There were caravans everywhere—some were huddled in a small circle. Horses occupied every other tent. There were women dressed in clothing Blake didn't recognize, and the men dressed the same as well.
The occupations turned to see the incoming group with the gang. The dark haired nomad gave the others an order and the gang was brought up to the base of camp. The ropes were cut and they immediately felt relieved. They were quickly kicked down to their knees; they were a little more gentle with Red though.
The same nomad then asked them, "How did you all find our territory? Explain yourselves!" John spoke up first: "Look, none of us had any idea y'all were even around here! We jus' needed a place to rest an' that—" John pointed in the direction they came from, "—just happened t' be the place! Now is that all cleared up?" The nomad gave John an irritated look. "What?! What more do you want us to say?!" John asked in annoyance.
"Do you think I believe in your cover up?"
John, Blake and Davison raised an eyebrow; Tonto cocked his head. "Uum, yes?" John replied. The nomad walked up closer to John and muttered, "Do you want me to believe that the white man would make something up like that so easily?"
"W-What?"
He slapped John across the face. "...OW?!"
The nomad then grabbed John by the collar and said, "Why would I want to trust someone who would violate our peace treaty?!"
Blake shot her head to the gypsy man. "Wh-What?"
A voice then chimed in.
"What Mordecai means is that the Cavalry invaded our territory and now we had to move three more times before they eventually attacked our people."
Everybody turned to the source of the voice. The voice belonged to an elderly man, possibly in his mid sixties; he had pale grey hair hidden under his white hat and a bearded face; his eyes were sky blue; he was short; his attire consisted of a deerskin vest, a dark blue shirt, black boots and dark pants. The camp parted away from the elder as he approached the gang. "Mordecai, be kind and put the masked man down," he asked kindly. Mordecai dropped John on his butt. John winced.
The elderly nomad held out his hand to Blake. "I'm sorry about him, he doesn't think before he acts," he stated. Blake took his hand and said, "Uuh, yeah, no problem." He pulled her up and she straightened herself out. The man smiled and offered, "Why don't y'all come inside my caravan and, we can talk properly." John and Blake looked at each other and back to him. They shook their heads in agreement. "We can do just that," John said.
…
…
…
The elder nomad closed the door behind him. "Again, I apologize for Mordecai's behavior towards y'all," he said apologetically. The gang was all sitting in a circle cross legged (except for Red of course, who was sitting in a chair). "Ever since the Union army violated both treaties, none of our people have been at ease," he finished. "It's totally understandable, Mr. — What's yer name?" John said.
"I'm Avery Havener. The elder of our gypsy caravan. You've obviously meet one of my four children Mordecai," said Avery. "Who're th' others?" Blake asked.
"I've two more sons: Amos and Niles. And a daughter: Angela. Though unfortunately, she had passed away sixteen years ago," Avery informed. For some reason, Angela's name sounded very familiar. "Angela?" Blake said. Avery nodded. "Yes. Angela was my only daughter. As I said earlier, she died sixteen years ago. But before she passed away, I knew she was expecting a child with her lover."
That got the gang's attention.
"She… Had a lover?" asked Davison.
"Wha' was his name?" asked John.
Avery went quiet while he went back into his memories. "He was a nice gentleman. In fact, he was different; he was an outlaw." Blake raised a brow. "An outlaw, huh?" she muttered.
"That's right."
Blake took a sip of her drink. "Jes' curious, do ya think y' have an idea wha' happened t' Ang?"
Avery shrugged and replied, "Probably murder. Never knew what happened to the child though."
"You mentioned they were expectin' a child earlier," John reminded Avery. The elder nodded and said, "Yes. Yes I did."
"How'd you know?"
"Because why else would ya wanna get married after meeting a man three weeks after he arrived?"
John hesitantly nodded. "Good answer."
Avery chuckled, "She was a very eclectic one, I must say that."
"An' clever, too," Blake chuckled.
"Yes. That she was."
…
…
…
The gang was invited to dinner with Avery later that night.
All it was was game and stew.
"How long've y'all been out here?" John asked. Avery replied, "Oh about 50 years or so."
Blake swallowed her food and commented, "Don't look like ya been here tha' long."
Avery chuckled. "Miss, I've been here a long time. Just wait until you hear about-"
Just the a young man, not much younger than John (around mid twenties); he wore a button down shirt with a few buttons undone at the top; his dark moppy hair was covered by a black bandana; his dark pants were caked with dirt along with his black boots. "Um, sorry to interrupt you, Grandpa, but, uh, uncle Mordecai's trying to beat up another man again," he said sheepishly. Avery put his plate down. "Again?!" he exclaimed. The young man nodded.
Avery sighed heavily like a parent about to whip their child. "Twain, keep these kind folk entertained. That boy's gonna have a beatin' of his life! An' I don't care if he's a grown man!" he announced as he left the caravan.
Twain watched his grandfather walk out the door with a belt in his hand and closed the door. He turned back to the gang and waved shyly. "Sorry about that…," he apologized.
"No problem, Twain," John replied. Twain took a seat and said, "Oh, please, call me Toby- even though technically it's Tobias."
"Okay- Toby."
As the gang chatted with Toby, the young man brought up Angela's name again. "Yeah, my aunt Angela… She was the nicest person you'd ever meet," he commented.
Blake swallowed her food before speaking up, "Mind I ask wha' Angela was like?"
Toby happily replied, "Oh aunt Angela was the sweetest person ever! Nobody in the caravan disliked her- I mean- it was hard not to like her. And her lover, he was a nice guy, too."
"Yeah Avery said she had a partner. Who was he?" Blake asked.
"Um, I think it was something like Bartholomew or something?"
"Bartholomew?"
Toby shrugged. "He went by Butch, technically."
John and Blake shot each other looks. "Like- Butch Cavendish?" John asked.
Toby's eyebrows shot up as he exclaimed, "Yeah! That's him! Butch Cavendish!" Blake commented, "A man li'e him can fall fer 'ny kinda women."
"Yeah," Toby replied, "just seemed like a twist of fate that they fell for each other."
"Didn't Avery say tha' they were havin' a kid?" John asked. Toby nodded. "Yeah an' I figured it out, too. I dunno what happened to their child though. Think a scout said that after she died, her child was adopted by some rich family in Clarton."
Blake felt her heart stop as she dropped her fork and plate.
"But then again, that was over fifteen years ago. My memory's not all that- Hey, are you okay?"
John, Tonto, Davison, and Red turned to look at Blake as a wave of shock hit her like a train. She quickly stood up and left, not caring that the blood was rushing back to her head as she stumbled out.
She ran as fast as she could away from the caravan until she collapsed to her knees. Her hand was over her mouth as if she were about to throw up; which she most likely was going to anyway.
John called out her name as he and the rest of the gang caught up to her. "Blake! Wha' the hell? You okay?" Blake turned to them and asked directly to Toby, "Y-Ya sure th' kid's not dead?"
Toby thought about before shrugging. "Never thought about that, but I would think so after th' fire, why?"
Blake shook her head. "T-Toby..."
Silence.
"...I'm Butch an' Angela's daughter."
((AUTHOR'S NOTE: OOH JEEBUS! I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING AS FREQUENTLY AS I USED TO! ;n; College has been a huge pain in the ass right now and I haven' found much time to do anything writing or art wise. Well at least my swim season's almost over and I can hopefully—keyword hopefully— find a little more time to update my fics. I hope you guys understand my situation and please bear with me.
Well I guess I better get back at it. *in Markiplier voice* Bye-bye!))