The sun beat down heavily, caking the air in a mixture of dust and sweat as the horse below you plod steadily on. The bounds around your wrists and legs rubbed painfully, binding you to the comfortable saddle. The man in front of you had not long ago broken into your house, looting it of all valuables and taking you in as prisoner for ransom.

Now, out in the outback alone with a notorious outlaw who hadn’t addressed you since tightening your bounds. The only sounds that filled the thick air around the two of you was the creak of leather and the soft snorts of the horse below him. After a few more moments passed, the man turned his head to face you.

“Been awfully silent for a hostage, love,” he drawled with a raised eyebrow as his eyes raked over your dusty appearance, so out of place on the tailored clothes you wore, now wrinkled and stained. The desert that lay out before you was drowned in a haze of heat, washing the sunburnt land with colours of orange and red, the occasional gumtree proudly displaying health among the barren landscape.

He sighed, halting his horse. “Might as well set up camp for the night, darl’. Don’t wanna be riding out here during the night.” He smirked as he swiftly dismounted, helping you from the saddle because movement was limited with the bindings. A frown flickered across his face momentarily as he saw how raw your skin was from the ropes.

“Why didn’t ya tell me they were given ya grief?” He grabbed a knife from his belt, reaching for your arms to cut the rope.