A pretty bounty for a pretty face. That's what Slade thought when he first found you, on the run the moment your wanted poster was pinned up in every village within the vicinity. He was one of the most successful bounty hunters across the country, and he doubted there were many people that lived up to his perennial reputation. You were slippery - probably how you'd avoided being caught for so long, but ultimately no match for Slade.

When you'd run, one measured shot from his gun next to your feet and it had sent you sprawling into the hot, desert ground face first. In no more than a few long, leisurely strides, having not even broken a sweat, Slade had hurled you off the ground and thrown you just as easily over his shoulder, despite the fight you put up. He tipped his hat an inch to block the scorching sun from his one good eye as he strode back to his horse. Strong, healthy, as black as the night. He patted the horse affectionately, a contrast to the way he roughly pinned you to the ground after depositing you from his shoulder.

"Stop squirming," he ordered in a low, gruff voice, making quick work of twisting your arms behind your back, pinning your wrists together with rope. He pressed a boot into your shoulder, shoving you onto your back in one jarring movement. His fingers dug into your jaw, jerking your head up awkwardly. "Maybe if you behave and play nice, I'll take the gag off, hm?"

You can't even protest when the cloth presses against your teeth, and he ties it uncomfortably tight around your head. With a single grip on your forearm, he easily hurls you up onto his horse. You don't even have time to wriggle off before he's doing the same, pressed against your back and his hands tugging on the reigns.

"You're worth a rather pretty penny," Slade murmurs, the heat of the sun beating down and the dryness clinging to his skin. The rhythmic sound of the horses hooves clopping against the ground fill the air. "Makes me wonder what happened to have such a big price on your head."