scurlock | oom: amarillo, tx

oom: amarillo, tx - for yrael

True to his word, he's downstairs early, with his bag packed and his gun at his hip. He's ready to head back out to Amarillo, and this time he's taking along a guest for a bit of the ride.

At breakfast, he orders himself bacon and eggs, coffee, and a dish of cream. The first three are for himself. The latter is placed beside him on the bartop.

He figures Yrael has cream-sensing senses no matter what form he's in, so it seemed the quickest way to find him.

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"Anything ranging from deer and antelope, to larger things like buffalo, you can also get jackrabbits and coyotes as well," he says. "Wild boar in some parts of the country, though they tend to stick to more forested areas...javelinas out here, they're a type of wild pig."

As they travel on through the desert, they might come across a lizard or a quail scurrying through the scrub brush in an effort to escape the hooves of the horse.

"I do not know antelope, or buffalo, though there are wild boars in the forests of the Old Kingdom," says the cat, eyes fixed on a scurrying bird that smells quite good.

"Would you mind a little hunting, today? It is rare that I find such wide open spaces." It makes him want to run.

"Not at all. It's your mini-vacation, after all," he says. "You want me to stop so you can get down and run a bit?"

They're coming up on some thicker brush, but there are animal tracks between the plants, and the plants themselves are spread out, since there is only so much water available and that means it's sparse even when 'thick'.

"Buffalo are big," he says. "And there aren't any here. We'd be able to see them."

"No need to stop, as long as me leaping down wouldn't scare the horse," he says, eyeing the tracts and taking in the scents as they pass.

"Nah, just don't jump in front of him, I don't want him to run you down," he says.

Cortez is the jumpier of the two horses he rides most often, and he did fall off when the horse came across some birds in the grass on the Barlow ranch, but that was because he hadn't expected him to rear. If the paint chooses to spook, he'll be ready this time.

"That would be more likely to hurt the horse than me. He might trip," grins the not'cat, comfortably.

Doc laughs at that. "Don't want to trip him, if he breaks a leg out here, we'd be screwed unless you got healin' powers."

"I could try," Yrael shrugs. "What I would be able to do to help actually depends on how far I am from the door to the bar. Which reminds me. I shouldn't go more than sixty miles or so from the door, or I will quite literally be dead weight."

"It would take me over a day to go sixty miles," he says. "So we won't have a problem with that."

Horses are not cars, after all.

"I didn't expect us to be going that far. But, it is worth mentioning. It reminds me, too. I tend to get caught up in what is going on, if I am in a new place, and have forgotten, before."

It wasn't good.

He sobers slightly, nodding. "I can't say I'd blame you," he says. "Or that I wouldn't do the same, myself, a place as new as this."

Clear, Texas sky overhead, with a hot blazing sun and reddish earth beneath them, scents and smells all different than that bar and the cold out back.

"I was offered... sponsorship for my music, in New Orleans, and was being taken to the next city to decide on the details. I collapsed on the way there, having gone too far from my door in a world without magic."

"Rather not do that again," he grins, wry.

Doc winces at that. "No, can't say I blame you for that either. If you start...I dunno, feelin' not okay? Let me know and we can get back. Cortez here," he leans forward and pats the horse's neck lightly with one hand. "Can haul ass if he feels so inclined and motivated."

"Bet I'm faster."

Did that cat sound smug?

He just might have.

Doc smirks.

"Well if you're not tired later, we could race."

The cat snorts. "Right, tired."

He gets to his feet on Doc's shoulders before leaping lightly down to the ground. That his tail knocks into Doc's hat, possibly knocking it askew as Yrael leaps down, is a complete coincidence. Really.

As the cat runs alongside the cantering horse, it grows larger. He is about the size of a leopard before he has settled into a comfortable, loping run.

There is really not much to say to that display, especially when he's keeping a solid grip on the reins in his hand because Cortez is now very interested in just what the hell is running alongside them.

Thankfully, for all involved, he does not spook.

Doc fixes his hat with one hand.

"Better horses in Texas than in the Old Kingdom, it seems," laughs the not'cat.

He's being uncharitable. The horses of the Old Kingdom know the smell of Free Magic, and know to get the hell away from it as fast as they can. Earth horses have no such prior knowledge.

"He ain't happy but he knows better than to throw me a second time," he calls back. "I wasn't too happy the first time he did it."

He studies Yrael the not'cat.

"That's a mighty impressive form y'got there," he adds.

"It's a shape," he replies, in a tone that indicates that, were he standing still, he would be shrugging. "It's useful."

He's not even breathing hard.

He might not be breathing.

Doc will ask about this not-breathing later, once they've stopped for a rest and that nap on that flat rock they'll eventually find.

For now? He's enjoying being out of the bar and out where he belongs, which is the desert.

Plus, he's kind of looking forward to watching Yrael hunt.

Yrael enjoys the opportunity to stretch. There isn't enough open space at Milliways to run flat-out. There are always trees and roots and things to dodge. Here, though, with the flat earth stretching before him, he can really let loose.

It's only when he scares up a bird, a roadrunner to be exact, that he is distracted. The bird runs as a first instinctual reaction, rather than flying, which breaks Yrael's urge to keep running just as soon as the temptation to catch the strange new thing appears.

The half-swerve, half-pounce sends up a sudden cloud of dust.

The horse does not enjoy this swerving-dust-kicking motion, and shies away from his current path, Doc reining him in with a quick hand before he manages to rear and startle too much.

Doc, for the record, hollers; amused as all hell.

The bird realizes quickly that running just isn't going to cut it, and leaps, flapping its wings.

Just in time to be neatly* plucked out of the air by the not'cat.

There are feathers, and blood, and a curious Yrael. "What... kind of bird is this?" It looks like the overly-large, mutated cousin of a brown thrasher or a cuckoo. It's almost as big as a crow, for the Charter's sake.

*almost neatly. No one is perfect.

"That, my friend," Doc comments, as he pulls Cortez up to a stop, the gelding stamping his feet a little in irritation. "Is a 'road runner'. They can haul ass 'cross the ground, ain't all that great at flyin'."

As evidenced by the fact that Yrael has it caught and being investigated.

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