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“I do not. I accepted I will die and when I do, it will be on my own terms.” why wasn't she surprised that the creature, the wolf was capable of speech.

Adrenaline spiked higher after the translation of the Spanish, her statement very much brushed aside; the moment the wolf lunged so did her horse. 13 lives. 12 in the chambers, one within her.

The open provided little to no chance of a prolonged fight and she knew she had to keep her distance at all cost. The ebony mare flew towards the town, a cloud of dust in her wake. Veins on her neck bulging and rising to surface, a telltale sign of the half Akhal Teke nearing her top speed. A sharp halt at the edge of the small town, emerald eyes flickering between the two possible buildings.

A brothel. More opportunities to hide, to shoot from, to escape into other buildings by the windows but more casualties if the creature chasing her was too clouded by bloodlust. A bar. Probably medium crowd at this time of the day. Obstacles but easy extra time with the guns snatched from the already piss drunk. The owner probably has either a rifle or a shotgun under the counter.

Fluid dismount exactly in the middle of the two establishments, Villám purposely kicking up dirt to obscure the view before leaving Karma alone.

And she began to whistle.

At first hearing, it sounded almost cheery, it turned more and more sinister as the tune continued. Both revolvers cocked and ready, the path to either buildings clear. So she continued calling the creature with the knowledge she probably will perish today, yet it didn't matter. She wasn't a prey scrambling for her life, but looking for and possibly shooting Death straight in the eye when encountering properly.

@deathshadowed continued from x.

Death, in his time, had seen countless fools who were playing with their lives. This seemed to be the case, especially for Karma and her group of bounty hunters. He had been watching from afar, watching as the train and its occupants were torn to shreds, the wolf shaking his head out of frustration. He watched her and the other rider continue off away from the train, the wolf making his move.

He knew she had spotted him. It was hard to miss someone who stood out so far against the wasteland of the desert. White fur, red eyes, a black poncho and cloak. . . it was all someone needed to start guessing against themselves if such a figure was real.

But, in this case, staring her down as she reloaded her weapons, the wolf was. He reached for his scythes as his eyes glared out from beneath his hood, a hot snarl rolling from his lips as he spun them around once. Death knew she wouldn't be going down without a fight. He was prepared for this to take days if it needed to.

But he wasn't here just because she had cheated death, once more, from this little train fight. Oh no. . . she had a far larger history of pissing the wolf off and he was here to collect on her past misdeeds towards him.

❝I've always heard that you gunslingers had a death wish. . .❞ he commented coldly as he began to approach her, ❝But. . . Parece que tienes uno más grande que la mayoría.❞

With that. . . the wolf snarled loudly and began to race at her, weapons ready in his paws to end this one and for all. He wasn't going to allow her to leave without paying for her crimes against him.

He was going to make sure of that.