TDM #6 - The Wheel Turns [REPRINT]
Currently, we are asking that all toplevels include the age of the character (or at least a rough estimate) for TDM posts, to ensure that players both old and new can quickly make informed decisions about how to interact with a given character. We also ask that if someone lists a prompt as having an age preference, that it be respected. This is specifically for TDMs unless otherwise stated. Thank you!
Also, as of June 7th, Pumpkin Hollow will have been around for one whole year! Thanks for an awesome trip around the sun, everybody! Here’s to another! This particular TDM is going to be a celebration of making it through our first year and all the adventures we had along the way, so please enjoy this highlight reel of our year in review and take a crack at some fun you may have missed. Have fun!
[Find our plain text version here!]
Pumpkin Hollow Gazette
5/10/24 | TDM #6 - The Wheel Turns [REPRINT]
Weather Forecast: Fog in early mornings, occasional rain, otherwise clear and slightly hot. Often muggy.
WELCOMING NEW RESIDENTS FOR ONE YEAR AND COUNTING!
By Mayor Hellen Poe
The crop for which the town is named.
ISLAND-WIDE - Last June, Jack’s Marina saw its first overseas vessel in five years come into port as the very first ferry arrived. Ever since that fateful day, that same ferry has ushered in newcomers from all over this wide, wild universe, bringing to this island a multitude of individuals. Each new resident has been unique --- most have been the only person from their world of origin, and each has their own skills and knowledge. However, all of them are unified by one characteristic: they have served as a symbol of hope.
Our island is deeply cursed, of that, there is no question. And in the past year, we have faced many challenges together, from cursed pirate treasure to nightmare carnivals, from food shortage to turnip overflow, from train rides to alternate dimensions to a parasite-infested ship. But in overcoming those challenges we have grown stronger as a community.
As the Wheel of the Year turns once more, we move forward with the hope built for us by our newest residents, and we are pleased to continue welcoming ferries into our docks. If you’ve just arrived, please feel free to stop by Town Hall or reach out to any of your new neighbors for assistance. Welcome, offworlders, and may your lanterns always be lit.
LAKE SAL-CO-PENN FOG ADVISORY
By Yorick Aberdeen
An eerie view of the notorious lake.
LOCKWOOD FOREST (Northern Marrow Isle) -The Pumpkin Hollow Board of Safety has released an important new weather advisory for everyone traveling through Lockwood Forest toward Paradesium on foot. As most of us are aware, the intense rain last month resulted in some very high humidity for this time of year, especially given that this time of year is still quite cool. This has resulted in some heavy fog around the notorious Lake Sal-Co-Penn at the base of Crane’s Ridge, particularly in the very early mornings and late afternoons as the sun begins to set.
For those not yet aware, Lake Sal-Co-Penn’s fog draws those exposed closer to the lake, where it will then subject the victim to dangerous illusory experiences. The side effects of these illusions include but are not limited to foul smells, supernatural compulsion, panic attacks, drowning, and death. If you come into contact with the fog from proximity to the lake, don’t panic! Once you see where the lake itself is, turn around so that your back is to the water and begin walking straight ahead as quickly as possible while reassuring yourself that you do not recognize the bodies in the water. Safe travels!
PAST FRIGHTS MAKE ROTATING ENCORES
By Chief Constable Janine Kilbride
ISLAND-WIDE - Reconnaissance officers set out by the constabulary, in conjunction with the Pumpkin Hollow Board of Safety, have reported multiple sightings of various hostile monsters and spirits that have plagued our town over the past year. These beings include recurring island staples such as Brutoks and the River Walker, as well as newer aggressive entities such as the Tristitia and some carnivorous creatures from Paradesium. They appear to be on some sort of rotation as to which will appear on a given day.
While the Board of Safety continues to monitor the situation and test theories about an observable pattern, please travel safely regardless of time of day or location. Report any monster sightings directly to the nearest Enforcer and keep an eye on the community bulletin board for information as this situation develops.
PUMPKIN HOLLOW JOB FAIR
By Yorick Aberdeen
FESTIVAL GREEN - Due to the success of our planting season recruitment efforts over the previous months, Pumpkin Hollow’s Town Council will be expanding upon its initiative to help people seek out career opportunities in a local Job Fair! Come down to the festival green if you’re interested in a new job, and one of our seasoned artisans and skilled laborers will show you the ropes!
MAGICAL CRITTERS GRACE ISLAND ONCE MORE
By Yorick Aberdeen
A little friend in the Festival Green tulips.
VARIOUS LOCATIONS (Lockwood Forest, Crane’s Ridge, Paradesium) - This past autumn, a host of eerie, magical animals resembling ghosts took over Lockwood Forest, but departed just as mysteriously as they’d arrived by the end of November. These creatures of unknown origin were found to possess incredible power, and while some were hostile, others seemed quite friendly and were content to follow us home. Those that decided upon homes remained even when their brethren vanished with the snowfall.
Now it would appear that another wave of these helpful companions has appeared in the wild! While some are familiar, many of them are entirely new. Most seem to bear plant-like features, but some whimsical pink creatures or pastry-themed animals have been spotted as well. If the pattern follows, they should be around until summer reaches its peak, so go out there and make a friend, and make sure to bring treats!
HELP WANTED: Piano Wrangler
By Dottie Siward, owner of Empty Pockets
DOWNTOWN HOLLOW (Empty Pockets Music Lounge) - Local music lounge seeking assistance taming piano mimic(?) acquired from Calloway’s Curios. Our old piano got bashed to bits in the flood a while back and we bought a fancy new grand piano for a ridiculously low price, especially for Calloway’s. This was a terrible mistake. The piano eats people. Especially people who play badly, which happens a lot on open stage nights. Please help. Half-price drinks for life to anyone who can get this thing to behave, at least until we get a new piano.
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Year in Review
Monsters from our previous TDMs will be making victory laps in a week-long rotation. Which creature you’ll encounter depends upon the day!
Monday's Child is Fair of Face [cw: facial mutilation]
On Mondays, Smiling Jack from TDM#3 - "It Came from Beyond the Veil!” will appear in and around the cemeteries and farmlands, primarily at night. He is a hostile spirit with a Jack-o-Lantern over his head to hide his Glasgow smile. He attempts to make his victims laugh with morbid jokes and pranks and will attack those who do not find his antics funny, exposing his mutilated face and inflicting his same injuries on them. Those who do laugh will be followed until they cross paths with someone new for him to torment. Defeat him by breaking his pumpkin head!Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace
Luck: One unexpected fortunate circumstance occurs organically within the next 24 hours, and any dice rolls made during the OOC week will gain a bonus of +2.
Shimmer: A Shiny Pokemon will appear.
Weather: You can decide the weather for the next day, which can only be interrupted by Cecil Palmer’s Weather with consent from the user.
Fortune: Gain 10 Brass! Wow!
Abundance: Mysteriously acquire one delicious home-cooked meal of your choice with no apparent source.
Safety:: One immediate respawn from death (only works once per character for duration of the game).
Pants: A fabulous new pair of pants, free of charge.
Those who acquired stardust in the prior TDM can now use it for these purposes.
Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe
One of the island’s local cryptids, the Tristitia, can be found wandering the streets of town on Wednesdays. She originated from player action but made her first official appearance on TDM #5 - “Paradesium”. She is a banshee-like evil spirit appearing as a veiled woman with a hollowed-out chest. While normally she is not particularly aggressive if given a wide berth, on her day of the week she has become more hostile. She is ever-grieving and will attempt to embrace her victims and force them to share in her anguish by drawing out their personal trauma and sadness. She is extremely difficult to kill, but will vanish on her own when satisfied with her work.
Thursday's Child Has Far to Go
On Thursday afternoons, Greenstriders from TDM #5 - “Paradesium” can be found coming all the way up from the underground jungles of Paradesium to hunt and forage in Lockwood Forest, even coming as far as Northwest Hollow to try and steal from farmers. They are violent, loud, aggressive, and venomous, and they work in small packs. Good luck if you get caught outside on a Thursday.Monsters from Paradesium, including Greenstriders, were studied and reported on during an expedition led by Dr. Elias Coldwood. More extensive notes on greenstriders can be found in Dr. Coldwood's improved besiary.
Friday's Child is Loving and Giving
Featured in our December Mini TDM - “The Dead of Winter,” the Whispering Trees of Lockwood Forest are found to be active throughout the day on Friday. Gentle voices from the trees lure unsuspecting, emotionally vulnerable victims out into the woods by telling them that they are loved--- moreso by the trees than any other time in their lives. Following their dulcet tones resulted in hypothermia back in December, but without the aid of snow, the trees will now attempt to manipulate their victims into other deadly behaviors. Lovebombing has never been so toxic.Saturday's Child Works Hard for a Living
On Saturdays, the River Walker from TDM #2 - “Down in the Underground” will be skulking around the Paring River which separates the town from the forest. A spider-like monstrosity with chitinous legs resembling rough hewn wood that bears the face of a drowned woman, the River Walker enjoys catching people unawares and knocking them unconscious. It then drags its victims down to labyrinthine tunnels where it will chase them through the claustrophobia-inducing burrows for hours and hours at a time, catching and killing them only when all hope is lost. However, the River Walker is quite weak and can only fight off one assailant at a time. Occasionally one can stop the Walker from kidnapping someone, but this is challenging as the creature is quite sneaky. The best way to defeat it is for two victims to find each other by sound in the tunnels and work together to escape, at which point the River Walker will avoid the pair and let them go for fear of retaliation. Escapees are let out near the mines in Crane’s Ridge!And the Child Born on the Sabbath Day is Bonny and Blithe, Good and Gay
Last but not least, on Sundays during daylight hours, one has a chance of being targeted by one or more Brutoks. Having been the very first monster to ever appear in a Pumpkin Hollow event, they were featured in TDM #1 - “The Vengeful Forest”. Brutoks are tricksters who hide in trees and then attach themselves to victims who make accidental eye contact. If attached, they will pull mean spirited pranks, steal personal belongings, vandalize property, and eventually try to kidnap the victim. Taken victims will be planted in the ground and slowly turn into trees that must be destroyed in order for the person to die and resurrect. To dispel Brutoks, one can look for their simple but well-camouflaged puzzles, which will be outside near the space they’ve attached to. Or, you can set them on fire. Dealer’s choice.
Additional Prompts
Lake Sal-Co-Penn
Lake Sal-Co-Penn is an infamous SCP which creates dangerous hallucinations. It presents the viewer with a vision of one or more floating corpses, which appear vaguely featureless until closer inspection. At this point the corpse(s) will take on the form of someone who the victim knows personally in an attempt to get them to enter the water, where they will be drowned and consumed. Feel free to roll dice to determine how well you can resist the illusion, and don’t forget to fill out a Death Certificate if you die!
Magical Creatures
The aforementioned mystical critters are Pokemon! Some Pokemon already exist on the island--- Ghost types were available during October and November. This time, both Fairy and Grass types can be found around the island for the duration of this TDM! (May & June). Here’s everything you need to know:
- Dual-types and pre-evolved forms of Pokemon that will gain Fairy or Grass types later are available. (Except for Eevee, due to its many evolutions. But Sylveon and Leafeon are available!)
- Evolution is possible--- stone deposits will be found in the mines later!
- Each character may have up to three Pokemon companions
- Neither Pokeballs nor the knowledge to create them currently exists in Pumpkin Hollow. Unless a PC with this knowledge shows up, you will just have to befriend them rather than capturing them properly.
- No Legendaries or Mythicals are available for adoption (for the sake of fairness), though Ogerpon can be found near Elsie’s Tree of Trinkets in Lockwood Forest. However, she is extremely shy and will flee from most people. She seems to respond to certain individuals, though…
- Shinies can be obtained through stardust or by purchasing a Sparkling Talisman from Calloway’s Curios for 50 Brass. Each character may only have one shiny. (Note that new arrivals begin with 100 Brass.)
Job Fair
The Pumpkin Hollow Job Fair is a great meet-and-greet for older residents and new arrivals! Farmers, artisans, fisherman, and more can set up booths, Q&As, or sign-ups for job shadowing on the Festival Green. New folks are given the opportunity to drop by and learn more about potential career options! Not only is this a recipe for new CR, but anyone who participates in a Job Fair thread (both presenters and newcomers) will gain an extra 100 Brass on their next (or first!) activity check! This bonus can only be claimed once per character.
Help Wanted
The man-eating piano in question is Yamaha, a staple of a previous game that much of our current player-base has migrated over from. While it has a particular taste for bad players, mistake-makers, and your sheet music, it seems to have an affinity for specific individuals. This is mostly a treat for our CRAU folks, but feel free to get eaten! We’ll see you tomorrow.

Alex Conklin | Bourne novels | 60
[CW: reference to child murder]
Look. You tell Alexander Conklin not to go somewhere, especially 'for his own good', and he's gonna do it. Even if it means hauling his damned foot and cane through the underbrush at fuck-all o'clock. The scout who'd made it through a hundred and forty miles of enemy territory, rivers and streams and rocks and jungles, strolling into base camp asking if anyone had a bottle of bourbon...no, he hadn't been that man for decades. But he's still that field man at heart, making a mental map of the area, the forest, the lake and its environs, Crane's ridge...if he's to be stuck here, he's got to know the territory like the insides of his own eyelids.
There's something in the water. Several somethings. He doesn't even have to get closer to know what they are. He's seen enough corpses in his life, made enough corpses. Seen his good friend holding his bullet-riddled wife and two kids on the banks of the Mekong, letting out the cry of a wounded animal as the unknown jet receded into the distance.
But that was another country, Eliot once said--and while he's loath to finish the thought, they were all dead, weren't they? Even the man who David had been, a stranger now even to himself.
Enough. He's finished scouting for now, having made a passable mental map of the area, and rises stiffly from his crouch (damn boot!) to leave, maybe head back to the Oak and Iron for some tea. As he stands, something catches his eye in the lake - a flash of red, like a cardinal. Not the red of freshly-spilled blood, or the dark rust of something dried, but a familiar red, an auburn as striking as any he'd ever seen, floating loosely in the water like so much seaweed.
His breath catches in his throat. He'd know Marie St. Jacques-Webb anywhere, crown of fiery hair or not. And with her...
...he wants to vomit. The tow-headed five-year-old Jamie, dead spit of his father, and infant Alison, who'd inherited her mother's hair. The Jackal's plan come to fruition. All that was missing from the grim tableau were the blood-scrawled words. Jason Bourne, brother of the Jackal. He knows they'd faked this, tricked Carlos before, but the utter viscerality of seeing the three familiar figures, face down in the water, not breathing, as he'd seen Dao, Joshua, and Alyssa decades ago...
He takes a step towards the lake, almost involuntarily, then another. The cane fails to plant firmly in the sand, and takes him down with it, the shock of hitting the ground on his hands and knees jarring the old spook out of his trance.
"You're not real," he mumbles to himself, remembering what the papers had said and realizing it wasn't just local superstition. "You're not real." He digs his hands into the rocky sand of the lakeshore, eyes screwed shut, traitorous tears leaking from them. "You're not real!"
The strangled shout echoes across the placid lake in the pre-dawn air. If Mo was here, he'd say take a break, Alex, take a breath, get up, get your head back on straight if it ever was, go for a walk, and Alex would joke back on what foot, you inconsiderate headshrinker, and they'd laugh, but he's not fucking here and oh Christ he's in a hospital in Paris, odds sixty-forty against.
Pull through, you bastard! Don't join me here! I want to see your stupid face more than anything but stay right the hell where you are!
b. poor little meow meow (magical creatures)
Alex hasn't stayed alive as long as he has not knowing when he's being followed. And he's being followed, all right. And his tail's being quite cheeky about it.
"I know you're there," he says, his back turned to it, and then - it strikes! A cat, looking for all the world like it took a dip in the Chicago River on St. Paddy's, leaps out of the bushes like lightning and starts attacking his cane. He moves it out of the way, and the cat attacks it again, clearly having a grand old time. He crouches carefully, the new prosthetic still alien to him, and lays the cane down.
"Now, what're you doing attacking a poor old cripple, koshka, didn't your mama teach you any manners?" he says, holding his hand out for it to sniff. It rolls around on the ground, sniffs his hand, and gives it a teething bite before jumping back, ready to play. Alex laughs - truly laughs - for the first time since he's arrived, and drags the end of his cane in front of the little cat, watching it pounce.
c. bright and diplomatic (job fair)
While he is quite technically retired, no way Alex is going to be getting a CIA pension here, and it's not like he's built for sitting idle, anyway. He'll end up getting into trouble if he does. He'll end up getting into trouble either way, of course, because if he doesn't go seeking it out then it damn sure comes and finds him, but he'd rather face it on his feet. Foot.
No way he's going to be a farmer. Not cut out for that. Nor a fisherman. Damned if a lot of these jobs don't require skills he doesn't have - or more accurately, skills he has but a body he can't carry them out with. Artisan? Not likely. Where's a career for a man with his particular set of skills--
Enforcer. Ding.
He limps over to the Enforcer booth, addressing the nearest person working at it. "Okay, you've got me curious. Now sell me."
What, you think he's just gonna sign up not knowing what he's in for? Nuh-uh, bud, he's too old for that.
d. once a field man, always a field man (wildcard)
[Alex is likely to be found around town, gathering what information he can, hanging out at the Oak and Iron and people-watching, eschewing alcohol in favor of tea. He's not hard to spot - just look for the greying guy with the limp and cane. If you want to plot, hit me up at
a house on lake geneva (cw: references to death by explosive ordinance)
The voice is followed by a hand on the man's shoulder--firm, strong. If he turns, he'll face a man who could have been pulled straight from the battlefield...was pulled straight from the battlefield...if not for his simple clothing suited to the setting of the town itself.
The battlefield is in his eyes--dark and cold, resolute. It's in the neat line of scar tissue running from the corner of his eye to his cheekbone. It's in the strange ways his face tries not to twist or move as he keeps one image fixed in his mind to resist the bodies he can see drifting in the water, keep the horror fresh of Danforth's pieces all over him. His voice, screaming I wanna go home, Johnny--his legs just fucking gone.
"You don't recognize the bodies in the water." John repeats, making sure he's got the other man's gaze. "Say it. I don't recognize the bodies in the water. Think of another one if you can, one that can't be there. Helps, tiny bit."
As he speaks, he's trying to put his hand into the other guy's to haul him to his feet (well, foot--thinking of Danforth now, John feels vaguely nauseous and holds onto that), tries to keep the guy looking at him and not at the water.
...is that longer hair on that one body? Are there handprints on that shoulder?--
"I wanna go home, Johnny! I wanna go home!"
"I can't find your fuckin' legs!"
"I don't recognize the bodies in the water." John repeats again, for himself, trying to make himself feel the blood and skin while holding the other man's gaze. "Say it. Move--c'mon."
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"I don't recognize the bodies in the water," he repeats, voice shaky to his own ears and hating it. The hell of it was that there wasn't anyone else who couldn't possibly be in the lake. David - Jason, the damn fool, was probably hauling ass to Novgorod after the Jackal if he wasn't dead, Kruppie had been right next to him in the car so he was likely just as doornail-dead as Alex himself, Mo was in the hospital...fuck! He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. If you can't trust your eyes, then trust your ears. And right now he refused to accept the evidence of his eyes. "I don't recognize the bodies in the water," he says again, with more surety in him this time. He grasps the hand pulling him to his feet, scooping up his cane in the other.
The last word from the other man twigs something in him. He sounds so like David in that moment, like Jason, like Delta - move. Something about that makes him feel oddly like he's among friends.
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“We don’t recognize the bodies in the water. None of ‘em. No one we know.”
A beat…
“What branch?”
Glancing at the man, John shrugs.
“You flinch like that and still follow orders from a friendly in a crisis? You served, somewhere and some time…snake eater myself. Captain John Rambo.”
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Ah, fuck it - he's basically out of the ol' CIA closet to everyone back home, and he's retired anyway. "Less a soldier than a spook, but a landmine 'round the Mekong doesn't give a damn about that, now does it?"
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“No, sir—had a buddy who ran into a shoe shine boy that trapped his kit with one.” John replies softly. “I avoided the mines when I busted out of a camp near the Thai border in ‘72. I, uh…didn’t last long after that.”
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His gaze softens a little when he hears about the shoeshine kit and the camp. He'd evaded capture once or twice by being too fleet of foot for the VC to catch up, until he got stuck behind a goddamned desk.
"We tried so hard to get you boys out of those camps. God help us, but we tried." And there had been sweet successes and bitter, bitter failures.
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For one split second, John can’t breathe around the fire of rage burning in his blood, scalding his lungs…
If not for that missing foot and how quickly he comes back with that answer in a quiet, easy, cynical way that makes him think of his CO, John would already be turning around to fucking throw him in the goddamn lake to rot.
He keeps going. Away from the lake. He keeps pace with the man.
He takes three slow, deep breaths before answering.
“Maybe you did.” He replies, still quiet but openly bitter. “But everyone else is doing everything they can to make sure those men never get home. That’s how I got here. They used me…and they left me. In the same fucking camp I escaped from—and now they got the Russians managing their shit.”
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"Accountability," he mutters to himself. "Fuck, it's always the goddamned same..." A quiet fury starts to rise in his chest like bile as he thinks about the situation, as he thinks about all the good men and kids whose balls had barely dropped dying on the line while the fucking scum that made it out of Medusa were living high on the hog from the connections they'd made during the war, because American or Vietnamese or Soviet all that mattered was the almighty dollar. Who the fuck cared about the rest? Collateral damage. Acceptable losses. Phrases he'd had to use during his career that had never sat quite right but now they tasted like ashes.
"Seems like a dumb question, but maybe around here, not so much. What's the year?"
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The question, to that end, is welcome. A reminder how far away he is from the war, if not the fighting.
“1985.” He replies. “They pulled me out of prison for the assignment. Recon only…when I actually broke a man out, they turned the chopper around at the goddamn extraction point to avoid precisely that: accountability.”
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But it still hasn't changed all that much. Conklin nearly spits in disgust. "Leaving you and the man you rescued behind?" The moral gall of it aside, he wants to smack the commanding officer of that mission upside the head. You send a man for recon, you get him back with the fucking information! Good Christ, there were amateurs running the show at every level. Now that was something that hadn't changed.
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John wants to mention her, but can’t. Her name catches in his throat, her hopeful smile feels like the knife scarring his face again, her dying words…
…buk bukbuk…buk bukbuk…buk bukbuk…
John finally, visibly relaxes when he hears the familiar clucking. Making sure the other man is steady on his own, he jogs forward a couple paces and reaches behind a tree to lift a satchel into view—within which a young chicken is ensconced, head poking curiously out of the top to look around.
“Hey, Co—knew you’d keep me safe.” He greets her, settling the satchel over his shoulder before lifting her out to hold her against his chest. “No trouble while I was gone?”
Buk. Bukbuk buk…BUK.
“Good report.” He chuckles, kissing the top of her head before facing the other man again with a sheepish expression.
“Uh—kind of a pet. Helps me…keep my head.” He confesses. “This is Co…Co, meet—shit, I didn’t get your name.”
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Don't think about it. They're far enough from the lake by now, surely, but...don't think about it.
"Old habit, though, I suppose. Guys like me aren't generally accustomed to giving out names."
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Buk buk. Bukbukbukbuk buk! BUK BUK—
“Hey—save the hissy for later.” John admonishes, tapping her beak with one finger before kissing the top of her head and tucking her back in her satchel.
“If you get sick of the inn before you find work with housing, I got a ranch northwest of town. Keep a little space handy for some close friends that need a…retreat, I guess. Promise me you’ll stay the hell away from the lake, and you’re welcome any time.”
Co's head darts betwwen looking at both men, then she faces Alex and bukBAKs in “agreement.”
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"...thanks," he says, a little startled by the generous offer. He's not used to making friends, especially not quite so quickly. He smiles a little. "Trust me. I'm going to be staying the hell away from that lake."
He doesn't particularly want to see those bodies again.
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John hasn’t had to deal with anything as extreme as a missing limb—but to hear sweet little Tasha go off on him, not being able to eat like a normal person is just as bad…
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Shit, he hasn't had venison in...a while. Sounds damn good. He leans down to quickly massage his right knee, ensuring it's sitting right in the prosthesis and he hadn't jarred it too much when he fell. "How far's the ranch?"
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He did his usual thing, riding Dan out and letting him off the reins...but that was just before he heard Alex's voice and went to see what was up. Might still be close enough...
He pauses, glancing at Alex curiously. "You ride?"
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...and finally the sound of movement and heavy feet can be heard. It takes a full minute, but eventually a massive bay stallion appears through the trees, snorting.
"Took you long enough, jerk." John admonishes fondly, walking up to the horse to scratch his neck. "You were hovering, weren't you? If I didn't know better, I'd say you really were Joey come back to ride herd on my ass..."
After a moment he looks back to Alex with a grin, nodding to the horse as he reaches into Co's satchel to pull out the horse's detached, coiled up reins.
"Conklin? Meet Danforth. Dan? You're gonna make my new buddy's life a lot fuckin' easier today, so be nice."
Danforth snorts and shakes his head, but walks forward a couple of steps to sniff Alex's hair, then give his forehead a careful bump with his nose of seeming approval.