'Flame coloured paradise
for you darling, but death
doesn't come with a warning'

-

Leaves rustling on the chilling night wind, you only further buried into your camp bed and hoped you'd somehow magically warm up.

You'd gotten into the paper thin covering of material, wrapped tightly in your shawl, and it seemed you were still freezing. You could hear your own teeth chattering noisily, whole body shaking like some frightened animal.

Glancing back across the small camp area, overlooking the last burning orange embers of the fire, you could see the shadowed figure of Arthur was clearly fast asleep. A huffy sigh escaped your lungs, of course he would be able to sleep – he's probably quite used to these very basic camping situations. Maybe it seemed his mind was also able to distance itself from the madness of the last few hours.

Time passed agonizingly slowly, and your exhaustion just made you want to fall asleep but you were far too cold to even think to do so - as well as being deeply troubled and tortured by your own actions. The whisky's warming effects had far retreated from your system now and you were left feeling starkly sober in the freezing temperatures - left mulling and cursing over all you had said and done. You felt like an idiot child, and also that you had maybe upset Arthur.

More then ever now, you kept looking across at Arthur's sleeping form and felt like a complete fool. The urge to wake him and apologise even greatly outweighed the prospect of you even getting some rest tonight. Besides, it's not like you could settle with these negative thoughts biting at your heels like hungry dogs.

So, similar to that of a child waking in the night, your shivering little body slipped from the sleeping bag, and you wandered over, hugging your woollen shawl even closer to your body as you ventured across the space between yourself and Arthur's beds – the wind was bitter than ever, you wondered how the horses managed to sleep in this.

"Arthur..." you whispered at first, standing over him. You didn't get any sort of response from this, he must've really been catatonically asleep. It seemed so strange to you how anyone could sleep in such bitter conditions as this, even despite the layers of clothes you had both gone to bed in - it still felt sub-zero in those rushing icy winds.

"Arthur!" you hissed, hoping your voice wasn't lost in the sudden rush of the wind that made the leaves clatter and rustle loudly against one another. The outlaw did somewhat sleepily grumble to your calls, and after a few passing moments – he seemed to at last stir.

"Goddamn it..." he groaned, squinting a little at you drowsily as if he was trying to work out whether he was still dreaming. "Whatchu' want?" he asked when he eventually came to into the clearing of consciousness. His now irritated mannerism made you wince inwardly. You were terrified you really had overstepped the mark.

"I wanted to apologise." You tried to say through chattering teeth. "I'm sorry if this is a stupid excuse to wake you but it's really bothering me..."

He exhaled the most laboured breath, one that carried frustration and irritation alike. But he said nothing immediately.

"Y' were drunk." He then said, sounding thoroughly miserable if anything. In the bleak darkness you could not make out much of his expression, aside from the dying embers of the fire. He just seemed drained if anything... probably tired of your behaviour.

"I know but that's not an excuse for it." You were quick to knock back, "I feel awful. Did I make you uncomfortable? I'm so sorry... I'm such an idiot..." you lamented on, the last fragments of the alcohol really wringing on your emotions.

You were expecting some sort of response - mainly a negative one from Arthur, but instead he silenced you were a sharp 'ssh!' - as if there was a noise.

"What?" You whispered, you'd been so busy with your own worries there had been no time at all to pay attention to your surroundings.

But there it was... clear as day, riding on the back of your words like a stark reminder of the wilderness you lay in.

Howls.

Loud howls.

A fear plagued you, and stunned you backed up close to stand where Arthur and his bedroll were situated.

In the dark you heard the clicking of a revolver, and Arthur's evident preparation for an attack didn't exactly fill you with confidence.

Seconds later, a dull yellow light began to glow - very slowly and steadily from a latern Arthur had just lit up as some meagre form of light.

"Stay close, the last thing I need today is for y' to get picked off by a wolf." He remarked, as you crouched by his side and suddenly your emotional woes about your actions seemed very secondary.

The yips and howls of the wolves seemed to be getting closer, the harrowing noises bouncing and reverbing between the towering, bunched structures of the trees. Amongst the heavy beating of your own heart in your ears, you could hear the low snarls getting closer.

"I hope you're a good shot." You whimpered, half serious and half light hearted. It seemed your ability to want to make a joke out of things was one of your main coping mechanisms.

"Oh Christ, sure, I got by all these years not bein' able to shoot for toffee." He barked back sarcastically - levelling with your humour despite the intensity of the moment, his eyes never leaving the treeline ahead of you both.

The  light hearted banter was very abruptly interrupted when there was a sudden loud whinnying and loud rush of movement by the horses, low snaps and snarls fell into the mixture of sounds and after merely a second – you knew exactly what was going on.

You stood from your crouched position - frozen in shock and not knowing where to go next? Would it be wise to run?

Somewhere in the rushing of blood through your ears you heard Arthur's shouts, a dangerous bellow of your name. It channeled straight into your heart, a call of pure dread and terror. It then struck you exactly why...

There was barely any time to react, before you knew it, you could feel that presence closing in – like an ominous feeling that was growing more and more prevalent in your gut. You only really knew it when you felt the weight slam into your side, and you rocketed towards the forest floor with force, hitting the dirt so much so your head seemed to dizzy on impact.

Having time to process what was happening, the screams that ripped from your throat were truly gut wrenching, and horrible for Arthur to hear as he witnessed what had happened through the dark.

The wolf that had pinned you to the ground was now snapping and snarling in your face, you could smell the rotten stench of it's breath, feel it's wet spit splatter across your face. With every lurch and lunge of it's neck towards your face, you could smell the horrible odour that emanated off the animal's dingy coat.

The fear that had enveloped your body like a blanket of terror, forced you to try and get away. It was this primal drive to stay alive. You twisted quickly underneath the weight of the big wolf, fingers clawing at the dirt beneath you as you tried to pulling yourself away. But this creature was not relenting.

Seeing It's prey was escaping, the wolf quickly snapped it's jaws around your leg, teeth sinking in. The feeling of each of the sharp teeth puncturing through your flesh made your lungs vent every last bit of air into one horrified and sickening scream.

That moment you were certain, death was coming.

You wailed out in agony and fright, head dropping into the dirt as you prayed for this to be over.

Your salvation came in the form of a loud gunshot that clapped through the air in an echo, the sharp, short whimper – followed by a hefty thud in the dirt behind you.

"Christ, (name)..." you could hear Arthur's boots in the dirt as he rushed beside you and knelt next to your form. The chill in the air was far from your worry now. Arthur carefully took hold of you, scooping you from the earthy floor below in his strong grasp, one arm supporting by your ribs and the other under your knees as he took hold of your shaky and withdrawn figure.

You were solidly locked in a state of shock, all the worry you had been doing about these beats in the forest had come to be realised, and it had set you into this zombified state of pure shock.

"What did I tell y'....?" Arthur said to you, his voice unmistakably laboured with concern and frustration alike, a hefty sigh leaving his lungs. The outlaw carried you across to Phantom, as you groaned pathetically- the gravity of the situation settling in.

"I'm sorry-" you groaned again, immediately hushed as Arthur set about putting you at the front of the saddle before mounting the horse himself, and sitting himself directly behind you – to make sure you stayed safely upon the horse.

"It's happened." Was all he said, trying to keep his voice level, knowing with the shock that was setting into your system that calm was the most important thing right now. All you knew was the pain that throbbed in your leg... and the fact you felt... so safe now.

"Boxer, come on boy," Arthur whistled to the big shire that had been acting as your mount for the evening, untethering him from the hitch so that the horse could follow.

Arthur decided it best to go back through the forest and down in the direction of Valentine, that would be the safest place to get you treated for the night. It wasn't anything Arthur knew he couldn't help to treat himself.

Your vision seemed to waver like the soft rippling of the ocean waves reaching the shoreline, and no matter how hard your (eye colour) eyes tried to focus – you couldn't fixate on anything. Your body was too busy trying to keep shock at bay  to grant you the ability to act cognitively.

A small groan of pain emitted from your throat, and you slumped back against Arthur, who rode you both towards to sleepy town of Valentine.

"It'll be alright. We'll get y' somewhere safe." He advised you, voice soft by your ear, with a few gentle kicks he coaxed the warmblood horse into a steady canter that was easy to sit to, even in your state.

The guilt Arthur was feeling was immeasurable, but whilst you were in such a way – he would not let this show. He felt personally responsible for letting this happened to you.

However, It was one of his many talents, to be able to present this mask of a face even when the most troubling of feelings plagued him. Through troubled blue eyes, he tried to focus on the approaching town of Valentine ahead.

No, before Arthur could think of letting himself feel the guilt for letting you be harmed – he firstly would make sure your wounds were tended to, and that you had a safe place to rest for the remainder of the cold night.

----

A/N: Sorry this chapter is really a bit boring.... I promise the next one will be better <3