Your legs burned as they thumped against the dusty earth, lungs heaving as each breath you took stung like neat whiskey. Your pursuer had an unfair advantage, chasing you on horseback, and you had the urge to turn around and cuss him out - if it weren’t for the fact that you were quite literally running for your life. You grunted as the wide loop of a lasso came to wrap around your figure, before pulling taut and yanking you to the dusty ground harshly, pulling a yelp from your throat. So much for a head start, you thought bitterly as you spat out a mouthful of hot sand. You heard hooves approaching at a leisurely pace, the rider sliding off his steed and crouching beside you on the floor, taking a moment to appraise his newly apprehended prey. A cold, metallic hand reached out to stroke across the plane of your cheek, before snaking up your neck and taking a fistful of your hair, angling your head towards him with a wince.

“Well, ain’t you a sorry sight, sugar… Pity I have to put you down, huh?”