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The campfire's embers had long since cooled when Caleb finally drifted to sleep, the echoes of Bill's drunken outburst still lingering in his mind. His dreams were fragmented, images of Jack's excited face during their hunting trip, John's hesitant gratitude, Mary-Beth's smile in the firelight, all underscored by the phantom sting of his healing wound.
The first breath Caleb took the next morning was crisp with pine and ash, the kind that pried open his lungs and wiped the last clinging remnants of sleep from his head.
The sun hadn't fully crested the trees yet, but the camp had begun to stir, pots clinking near Pearson's wagon, the rhythmic thump of someone chopping kindling, and a few low murmurs as voices began to rise.
He blinked up at the sky and rubbed his shoulder instinctively. The pain had dulled to a faint ache, the skin knitting together faster than normal thanks to his Physical Regeneration skill, and the stiffness had lessened. He flexed it a little as he stood. Two more days, he thought. Just two more and I'll be back to full strength.
He then turned to look left and find Arthur's bed still neatly made, untouched since yesterday. It mean that he hadn't returned back from camp since yesterday.
And now that he think about it, he also doesn't see Hosea on the camp as well yesterday, meaning there's a high chance that like in the game they head out together to hunt the legendary bear in Ambarino.
He began his morning routine, doing a series of careful stretches, dropped to the ground doing a quick and controlled sit ups, followed by a light jog around the perimeter of camp.
He passed Kieran, who gave him a small nod, and Miss Grimshaw, who squinted and muttered something about "morning energy." Sweat beaded on his brow by the time he returned and moved toward Pearson's water barrel.
The icy splash of water across his face and hair was pure relief, and he let out a satisfied sigh as he scrubbed his hands and arms clean. He ran a damp palm down the front of his neck, tilting his head side to side to loosen the muscles.
His reflection shimmered in the water's surface, messy hair, faint circles under the eyes, but alive. Stronger. Sharper. He would never see this version of him in his past life. It was then he notice Karen approached with his freshly cleaned Vaquero outfit.
"Figured you'd want this back," Karen called, handing out the neatly folded pile.
Caleb grinned as he took it. "Thanks, Karen."
"Good as new and looks good on you, too," She waved him off with a wink, "Though how you keep this fancy getup from getting dirtied every time you come back is beyond me."
Caleb laugh when he hear this. "Trade secret. Mostly involves doing some dirty work and not getting shot."
Karen snorted. "Tell that to your shoulder." She lingered as he dressed. "Bill's an ass, you know. Always has been. Don't take last night personal."
"I don't," Caleb lied, buttoning his shirt. "Just hope he sobers up and cools off."
"He will. Or he won't." Karen shrugged. "Either way, ain't your problem unless you make it one."
With that sage advice, she sauntered off toward the cookfire where Pearson was already banging pots together like a one man marching band.
Dressed, refreshed, and armed with his twin Schofields at his hips, Lancaster repeater across his back, and his pump action shotgun slung on his right shoulder, Caleb made his way to the hitching post where Morgan waited. The mare nuzzled his pocket, searching for her morning apple.
"Greedy girl," Caleb chuckled, producing an apple that he took from Pearson's wagon. "We're heading back to Valentine today. More lessons for Jasper." He patted her neck. "Assuming he's recovered from—"
The sound of approaching hoofbeats cut him off. He turned toward the entrance. Two riders approached, one tall and straight backed, the other a little more casual, like he'd spent half his life in the saddle.
It was Arthur on his brown coated brand new American Standarbred, Hosea atop his sleek white faced buckskin. As they drew closer, Caleb could hear the tail end of their conversatio.
"—don't need another 'we gotta be out there making money' speech from Dutch," Arthur was grumbling as they drew near.
Hosea chuckled. "We tell him we were scoping a lead. Which is true! He doesn't need to know it was a big furry one."
Their laughter carried down the trail, light and easy.
They rode up to the hitching posts and dismounted smoothly. Arthur slapped his horse's neck, muttering something soft under his breath, while Hosea removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Morning, Caleb," Hosea greeted, eyes twinkling behind his usual weariness.
"Morning Hosea, Arthur," Caleb returned evenly. Then, with a carefully neutral tone, "sorry, couldn't help overhearing. You two were out hunting a... big furry lead?"
Arthur arched a brow, then gave a small smirk. Hosea let out a small, good natured laugh but gave Caleb a look beneath it.
Hosea's laugh was warm, but his eyes were sharp as flint. "That we were. Though I'd appreciate it if that particular bit of word didn't make its way around camp. Let's just keep that one between us, alright?" Hosea said, his tone light but firm.
Caleb mimed locking his lips, tossing away the key, and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Never heard a thing. My lips are sealed."
"Good man." Hosea patted his shoulder as he passed, and the two older men made their way toward Dutch's tent, probably to deliver their half true report.
Caleb watched them go. He didn't expect that his thought this morning to be correct. The legendary bear. The same one Arthur could track and possibly kill. Or not, depending on the player's choices.
But here, there was no restart. No save file. If things had gone wrong up there… he frowned slightly, but shook it off. They were both back, safe and breathing. That was what mattered.
He mounted Morgan and turned the horse toward the trail that led back to Valentine. The ride was smooth, and as the landscape rolled by, his mind shifted on what to train Jasper on today.
When he reached Valentine, the town was its usual self, muddy, loud, and bustling with folk already deep into their day. Caleb dismounted and tied Morgan near the stables, giving her an apple from his satchel before heading toward the butcher's.
Old Bob was barking at someone behind the stall. Caleb walked around to see Jasper hauling a side of beef, arms shaking under the weight but determined not to drop it. He managed to hook it onto the rail and wiped his brow, turning to grin when he saw Caleb.
"Hey!" Jasper called, beaming. "You came back!"
"Of course I would," Caleb replied, stepping closer. "Looks like you've been workin' hard."
Jasper puffed out his chest. "Old Bob says I'm gettin' faster. And he even let me chop today. With the real cleaver.*
Old Bob, grumbling as always, nodded from behind the counter. "He don't got the strength yet, but he's got the head for it. Picks things up quick."
"Good to hear," Caleb said genuinely.
Jasper nodded his head, eager, and Caleb let him get back to work under Old Bob's supervision for a while. He leaned against a post nearby, arms crossed, watching the boy carefully as he moved with a kind of rough edged determination that reminded him of himself at that age or at least the version of himself he imagined, had his past life included a butcher's cleaver and a sunbaked frontier town.
When Jasper was finished hauling and Bob grumbled a dismissal, the boy wiped his hands on his apron, untied it, and jogged over.
"You ready for another round of training with your guns?" Caleb asked with a small smirk.
Jasper's eyes lit up at the mention of more training. "Hell yeah, I'm ready!" Jasper beamed, brushing sweat from his brow. "Gimme a minute to grab my guns, I left 'em in my room in. the hotel."
Caleb gave a short nod. "Alright. I'll wait outside."
As Jasper sprinted off, he made his way to the hitching post in front of the hotel where Stark stood hitched, calm and composed like a statue with a heartbeat.
The brown and white coat of the horse gleamed faintly under the morning sun, and when Caleb approached, The American Paint mare lifted her head at his approach, her ears pricking forward in recognition as she let out a gentle, familiar snort and nudged her head toward her master.
"You're looking good,, girl," Caleb murmured, reaching up to pat the side of the stallion's neck. Stark leaned into the touch, ears flicking back and forth as if listening for any sign of trouble. Caleb scratched beneath the jaw, and the horse huffed in appreciation.
Moments later, Jasper came trotting out from the hotel, his Cattleman Revolver holstered on his right hip and the Carbine Repeater slung securely across his back.
The strap was a little loose, and the holster sat too high, but Caleb said nothing for now. They'd work on that.
"Ready when you are," Jasper said, adjusting the repeater's strap.
"Looking sharp," Caleb said with an approving nod. "Now go bring Morgan over here. You're riding her again today."
Jasper perked up. "Really? Again?"
"You proved you could handle her yesterday," Caleb replied with a shrug. "We'll see how well you keep doing. Today's about shooting at moving targets like birds, rabbits, maybe a deer if you're lucky. We'll sell what we get back to Old Bob after."
"Alright!" Jasper sprinted off, excitement barely contained.
Caleb turned and mounted Stark smoothly, settling into the saddle like he was born to it. He watched as Jasper approached Morgan slowly, murmuring to her just like Caleb had shown him.
The mare sniffed at the boy's hand, nickered once, then allowed him to take the reins and mount. She moved with ease under his command, and together they rode off through Valentine, making their way north toward the Cumberland Forest.
The ride was smooth and quiet, save for the soft thudding of hooves and the occasional squawk of birds overhead and Jasper's occasional questions about tracking or firearm maintenance. Caleb answered each one patiently, impressed by the boy's genuine interest.
He also glanced to his right occasionally, watching Jasper's posture, his control over Morgan, and how he handled the rhythm of riding. It wasn't perfect, but it was good. The boy was learning fast.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the edge of Cumberland Forest, where the trees grew thicker and the underbrush rustled with hidden life.
Caleb reined in Stark near a wide branched maple and dismounted, tying the reins loosely around a low limb. Jasper followed suit, mimicking the motion with Morgan.
"Alright," Caleb said, unslinging his Lancaster. "Moving targets are different from cans on a log. You've got to lead your shots, account for wind, and most importantly—" he tapped his temple, "—think ahead. Animals don't stand still."
Jasper nodded, drawing his Cattleman revolver, checking it's load, and clutching it tight. He looked nervous but determined. "What're we hunting first?"
"We'll start with birds." Caleb said, gesturing toward the treetops. "Ravens, mostly. Black shapes against a pale sky. You see one, you call it out, take your time, breathe, then shoot. If you miss, don't rush to reload and shoot again. Just reset. Focus."
For the next hour, they tracked through a small clearing surrounded by thickets, listening for the flapping of wings or the cawing of ravens. Caleb pointed out the ones that circled lazily overhead.
Jasper took shot after shot, some close, most missing by a few feet, but he didn't get frustrated. He asked questions, adjusted his stance, and tried again. Eventually, a raven spiraled too low, and Jasper took a clean shot that sent it tumbling to the forest floor. "Good!" Caleb called. "That's one. You're gettin' the hang of it."
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Name:Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 6/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 6/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 5/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 1)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 2)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
Money: 675 dollars and 61 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets