It was a beautiful day, best day Arthur had seen in… uh—days. The sun was out and shinin’ bright but not blaring down, the clouds were big, white and fluffy, the birds were singin’ — the mourning doves bein’ the loudest, and the breeze was crisp and cool. Perfect day to just ride around and look for trouble.

So when the outlaw was suddenly engulfed in gray darkness… of course he was confused. He looked up just in time for a massive raindrop to smack him right in the left eye. Then, as if the sky had been waiting for him to notice, a deafening clap of thunder rolled through the air, startling him—and more importantly, frightening his horse.

Arthur barely had time to react before his mare bolted down the dirt road, eyes wide, running like she was being chased by a predator. He yanked at the reins, tried to calm her with frantic pats, but she wasn’t having any of it. The rain was coming down so hard now that neither of them could see a damn thing.

Then—another crack of thunder, another flash of lightning.

And Arthur was airborne.

He hit the ground hard, landing with a gasp as mud splattered up his arms and chest. His horse was already disappearing into the storm, her panicked hooves kicking up waterlogged dirt

“Miss Molly!” Arthur shouted, his usually rugged expression twisted into something desperate. He scrambled to his feet, slipping slightly in the mud, and took off running. But it was no use—he could barely see a few feet ahead of him, let alone his mare.

“Dammit,” he muttered, hands falling to his sides. Hopefully, Miss Molly would find her way back to camp… She was rather expensive, not to mention—his baby girl.

Well — now what? The outlaw looks around, squinting and trying to block the rain from splashing him in the face. Only now does he realize his hat is gone.

Great. An outlaw, stranded. No hat, only a pistol, and a sky that won’t stop raining for a long while… judging on the size of those clouds.

The man sighs and starts trudging down one of the paths. Maybe he’ll find shelter… or his horse.