─── ｡ﾟ☆: three , different :☆ﾟ. ───

THE LONG BUMPY RIDE ride along the rugged dirt trails finally came to an end as Arthur directed the team of horses down the hidden path in the thick shrubs. Angelica would have glanced right over the hidden trail if it weren't for Javier standing at the entrance waiting for their arrival. The Mexican male called out for them to slow down so he could jump on. Once he was settled, he sent both Angelica and Charles a welcoming nod.

    Angelica felt a tiny smile settle on her lips when her green eyes caught sight of the gang as they broke through the dense forest. Everyone was working away, setting up tents and looking somewhat happier. The secluded area giving everyone a sense of safety for the first time in days. Hopefully, this place would hold over longer then the last — a few days spent in the freezing mountains was enough to make the members of the Van der Linde gang grateful of the cliff side.

    Even if the sucled spot was a tight space — at least now they wouldn't run the risk of dying from frostbite.

    Like a splash of cold water to the face, Hosea's voice pulled her from her thoughts as her let out a relaxed sigh. "Well, here we are, home sweet home."

     Arthur tightened the reins, causing the two steeds to come to a stop. Angelica turned around, her hands hiking up her dress slightly as she began to move to the back of the wagon to climb out. She made a face when she tried to step down, pain shooting up her side at the odd movement. Charles, who made sure to hang back to see if she needed help, could easily tell the younger woman was in pain just by watching her almost stiff movements.

    The larger male, that stood a good foot over her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let me help," His voice was kind, and it caused a sheepish look to grow on Angelica's face when she realized he noticed her struggle.

     Angelica was a prideful, spitfire of a woman. Doomed to her stubborn nature since the day she was born. She hated being weak in front of others, but dammit, Charles was an observant man. She shook her head at him as he carefully moved around her smaller form, jumping from the caravan with a hard 'thud' before he turned to face her.

    "No, that's okay," Angelica protested, "I can manage on my own,"

    Charles gave her an unimpressed look, "Don't be stubborn — you don't want to pull your stitches," He pretty much scolded her, holding out his hand for her to take.

    Angelica didn't want his help. Pushing down her pride, she reluctantly slipped her hand into his. "Fine," She grumbled under breath childishly, allowing him to help her down.

    Charles lips quirked up at the woman, finding her attitude amusing. In his short time with the gang, he was quick to learn how head strong Miss Conti could be. He had seen how well she could handle herself. So her attitude toward his help was expected.

     "Thank you kindly, Mr. Smith." And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving the man to watch after her with a shake of his head.

    Dutch, who was standing near his tent, smiled fondly as his eyes spotted Angelica rounding the caravan. He quickly put on his charming smile, strolling over to the young woman he saw as his own daughter. He reached out and placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to his side as he faced the other men. "Would you take a look at this place, sweetheart. Hosea weren't wrong. It's perfect." His happy nature infected Angelica with a grin of her own, her head tilting back so she could stare up at him.

     "I hope so," Hosea replied, his grey eyes studying the small camp.

     A deep chuckle vibrated from the Van der Linde man, "Gentlemen, we have survived." He glanced down at Angelica with a mischivious glint in his dark eyes, he tightened the arm around her shoulder slightly. "Now it's time to prosper,"

    "As much as I would love that—" Angelica spoke, pulling away from Dutch as her gaze drifted across the camp, catching sight of Abigail storming out of a tent with a frown on her face. "I need to check on John,"

    Dutch's face softened at her kind nature, nodding his head. "Of course,"

    Angelica quickly walked away after that, heading to the tent she assumed John was in. Her steps were short and quick, an obvious limp in her movements. She paused at the entrance and hesitated when she saw John's figure lying on an old cot. His head was angled away from her, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths as if he were asleep.

     The woman let her pale eyes take in his beaten form, guilt suddenly hitting her in the chest like a train. Here she was with a wounded hip, walking around, while John was stuck on bed rest. She shifted her gaze to his face and she internally cringed when she saw the stitches in his cheek — that was definitely going to leave a gnarly scar — as her eyes dropped to the bandage on his arm. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, the sight of her best friend causing her mental pain.

    Angelica knew she would never look at wolves the same again. She closed her eyes for a moment, images of the crazed animals flashing in her mind quickly.

    John shifted in his spot, peeking open his good eye for a moment. He was suddenly wide awake at the sight of Angelica standing at the opening of his tent, a frown etched onto her face. "Hey there," He spoke up, his voice sounding rough and raw.

    Angelica snapped open her eyes, gaze turning to John to see him looking up at her with a lopsided grin. He tried to sit up, but Angelica was by his side before he could, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from straining himself.

    "Don't get up fool," She chided, doing her best to kneel beside him. "You'll hurt yourself,"

    "I'll be fine," Rasped John as he tried to regain his breath he suddenly lost, the pain from his wound making it a little harder for him to breathe. He honestly didn't care about hurting himself, he was just happy to see his best friend alive and well. "I'm glad you're okay,"

    Angelica gave him a lopsided grin, "Me too,"

    John fell back on the cot slightly, his dark eyes looking up at her. "I would have checked on you sooner, but Abigail would hear nothin' of it." The Marston man grumbled, the bangles shifting as he frowned. "Damn woman don't know when to quit,"

    Angelica rolled her eyes at his words. Though he acted like he hated being fussed over, she knew John secretly enjoyed the attention — especially when it was coming from Abigail — the two adults might butt heads a lot. But she knew John well enough to know he was sweet on her.

     "She cares about you, idiot." Angelica laughed at his defeated look, "Just accept her love,"

    That earned a scoff from him.

    It was silent for a moment. John turned to look back at her again, his eyes dipping down and running over to her attire. A small smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, "What the hell are you wearin'?" He snarked, glancing over her a few more times.

    Angelica met his gaze with a blank stare, already knowing where this was going. She squinted her eyes down at him, "A dress," She snipped, her gaze looking down at the material. "It's all I have — the rest of my things are still in Blackwater,"

     John tsked as she mentioned the cursed town, nodding his head and shifting a little. "I'm sure we can find you something — but if I'm bein' honest, you look different in a dress."

     She watched him with an arched brow, trying to figure out the angle of his words. "Different?"

     The bandage on John's face shifted as his forehead creased in amusement, "Yea, ya' actually look like a lady for once,"

     That was when Angelica acted without thinking. She sent a rouch jab to the injured man's shoulder, and as soon as her smaller hand made contact, a pained gasp slipped past his lips. Angelica joined in, pain from her own wound flaring from her stupidity, "Dammit, that hurt!" She hissed, clutching her hip and resting a hand on the side of the cot to steady herself.

    "Tell me about it," John snarked back, a pained chuckle coming from him when he saw karma had quickly grabbed Angelica and got her back.

    She found herself rolling her eyes at him, opening her mouth to sass something back. Her voice died in her throat when the sound of Dutch's voice rang out, calling for the camps attention.

     "Everyone, put your tools down for a moment! Come on, gather around,"

    John nodded his head at Angelica when she glanced over at him, letting her know he'd be okay so she could go see what Dutch had to say. She gave his hand a final squeeze before standing and making her way out of the tent, her eyes settling on Dutch across the way.

     He was standing at his tent beside Arthur and Hosea, his usual digar pinched between his fingers as his eyes scanned over the group thoughtfully. When his dark eyes landed on Angelica, he motioned for her to come over with a wave of his hand. "I know things have been tough, but we are safe, and we are far too poor — so it is time for everyone to get to work,"

    Angelica took a stand at the front of the group, crossing her arms over her chest as she rested her weight on the non-injured side. Her eyes were burning with curiosity as she stared up at the gang leader.

     Hosea nodded his head, "Get to work, but stay out of trouble," His old eyes lingered on Angelica as he said this, a pointed look passing over them seeing as she would be the first to find trouble. "Remember, we are itinerant workers—"

    "Laid off when they shut down our factory to the north," Dutch cut in, explaining the planned backstory.

     Angelica listened to every word, absorbing the information quickly — she might have knack for trouble, but Angelica was also known for her wits and photographic memory. She was one of the smartest members of the gang, seeing that when she was younger, her mother and father had given her many school lessons and books to read. That was a lifetime ago now — nearly fourteen years later, and she was still as smart as ever.

    Dutch let his gaze trail over everyone once more, "Now get out there, and see what you can find."

     The Conti woman nodded her head, her mind already working up a few things she could do while her wound healed. She was good that way. Her eyes drifted to Arthur, who was staring at Dutch.

     "Uncle, Reverend Swanson. . . No more passengers." Dutch firmly stated, giving the two men a pointed look. A string of chortles and giggles filled the air as they looked down bashfully.

     "It's time for everyone to earn their keep,"

     Angelica let her eyes fall on Molly O'shea and she wondered if that rule applied for her too.

    Hosea agreed with Dutch, "There's a town a little way down the track, name of Valentine. Livestock town, mud and morons if I remember right. That seems like a decent place to start."

     Pearson was next to pipe up, "We need food. . . real food — That means every day, one of you." He glanced at Arthur as he said this. The blonde rolled his eyes at him.

     "Remember, whatever it is that you find—" Dutch turned and grabbed the familiar wooden box, a place he kept the cash and saleable objects. "The camp gets it's slice — now be sensible out there,"

     As everyone began to disperse, Angelica stayed in her place with a thoughtful look on her face. She wanted to speak with Dutch about her lack of transport at the moment, seeing as her lovely arabian had gotten mauled by wolves back in the mountains. Just as she was about to take a step toward the tent, she noticed someone from the corner of her eyes.

     Arthur was still standing in his place, his gaze set on her. She couldn't read the expression on his face, but he looked as if he wanted to say something to her.

     His mouth opened, but no words were able to come out as Susan Grimshaw suddenly appeared from behind him. The gunslinger visibly jumped, spinning around to face the older woman when she began speaking — something about having his tent ready.

     Angelica rolled her eyes, shaking her head side-to-side and made her way inside Dutch's tent.

     Now about them arrangements.

words - 2232
edited - ★ (yes)