Everything is grey,
Everything was grey,
His hair, his smoke, his dreams,
His hair, his smokes, his dreams,
And now he's so devoid of color.
He don't know what it means,
Doesn't know what it means,
And he's blue,
And makes me blue,
And he's blue,
And makes me blue.

-Colors, Halsey

19

"Why don't you ever take off your gauntlet?"

The question caused War's body to tense as he froze in packing the supplies that he had taken from the backpack that Jessica had prepared for him, his eyes locking upon the water canister still in his hands. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ruin's head fling up, ears flicking up as he chewed on the mouthful of grass he had as he stared at the woman who had asked the question.

It had been a great morning. The air was great, the morning dew drops heavy in the air and cooling the humidity that was trying to take hold. The sun, orange rays dancing, was beginning to peek about the gray clouds that painted the horizon, holding the promise of rain. War could smell the rain that was arriving and the occasional flash of lightning from the clouds building behind him in the opposite direction of the rising sun flickered across the landscape. Birds chirped in the remaining trees, some dancing over the grassland that they were about to start crossing. Other small animals just waking up bounced by them, stopping to investigate, before leaving. Abbygail greeted them all by petting their heads gently and wishing them a great day despite the fact that they didn't speak her language as a human. Even breakfast had been great with the wonderful gravy that he had reheated with Jessica's instructions from the day before.

But there was no doubt that Abbygail's seemingly innocent question had ruined his day. He had noticed that about her rather quickly. She didn't mean to hurt people; she was a naturally curious person who wanted to know if her theories were correct. She had already surprised him yesterday by asking him if he had ever wanted to be anything besides from a warrior. The answer was simple -he hadn't ever dreamt of being anything else. Everything she said contained a naïve tone to it, like she honestly never had thought about it before.

Thinking, War continued to pack his things. After a few minutes, he decided that it was better not to answer. He would much rather sit in an awkward silence than describe to someone what it was like to live without half of an arm. To him it was a reminder of a time that he had disobeyed orders. It wasn't something that he wished to tell people and certainly not Abbygail.

At first he thought that he had gotten away with not answering. He walked by her without so much as a glance as he approached the cart that Jessica had given him to transport the materials that were needed. They both believed that Ruin was large and strong enough to be pulling the cart; he hadn't once faltered trotting through the forest that they had gone through yesterday. Jessica had given one warning. Like any horse, Ruin could possibly run himself dead. War knew his horse's limits. He was mostly more concerned about the cart staying together during the journey. It was already squeaking wherever they went.

He could feel her eyes on him as he called Ruin over and strapped the horse in. But she never asked. Didn't push for him to answer her question. And yet he wasn't surprised when he saw her shadow fall across part of Ruin as he fixed the last strap. It was silent for a moment before she took a deep breath.

"If you don't want to talk about it, then that's okay," she started slowly.

"I don't want to talk about it at all. Your guilt trip doesn't work on me," War snapped, turning away from her so he could gather the supplies he left.

Maybe his tone had been a little harsh. Just a tad. He could've been a little nicer when he said all of that. When he turned to face the cart again, he was slightly confused to find that she was removing her black leather jacket. What is she doing? Like he had expected, her shoulders were a little wide and her collarbone was very pronounced, her skin tanned perfectly even there. A small necklace sat just above where her white tank top began, an angel designed on an oval. Her hands ran once through her long black braid to pull it over one of her shoulders before turning and baring her back to him.

To say he was surprised was an understatement.

"I thought you were immortal," he exclaimed as he took a step closer to make sure that he was seeing things correctly.

"I am." She kept her back toward him, though he could see her stiffen as she admitted it. "But once upon a time I was mortal just like you are now. Those scars don't heal."

"Where did they come from?" War had reframe himself from reaching out and running his knuckles across her shoulder blades, where two, matching scars rested. It almost looked as if something had been ripped off from her back by the way that they were shaped. The two marks sat directly on her shoulders, standing bright red against her tanned skin as if someone had taken a burning pipe and dragged it across her. They looked hideous. It was strange at first, seeing something on such a beautiful woman that looked so awful. However, the more that he stared at the scars, he found that the more they seemed to suit her and her dark, mysterious past.

Yanking her leather jacket back up across her shoulders, Abbygail remained turned away from War. "A wound that never healed..." She trailed off, her fingers dancing across each other before she abruptly stood and War realized how close that he had gotten to her. "One of those that you don't ever forget no matter how hard that you try."

The Horseman watched as she walked away, not finding the heart to say anything to condole her.

<<•>>

Between the forest and the grassland that they had to cross, War enjoyed the grassland much more, mostly because of the beautiful landscape.

And because he could watch the black griffin always flying above them.

In the forest he couldn't because of the trees. Here, where there was nothing but golden grass waving in the wind, he was able to watch her swoop, flap, and fall across the sky laden by the storm clouds that had gathered in the sky. It was understandable when Ruin and he continued across the grassland without stopping when the first lightning strikes flashed. They weren't small either as the bolts sparked amongst the skies. It almost appeared to that they lit up the entire grassland with their brightest for only a few seconds before disappearing.

Abbygail didn't even appeared to be fazed by the lightning. Neither one of her large black wings faltered as she glided across the sky without appearing to be concerned. Her long tail was the only thing that made it obvious that she wasn't a predatory bird; everything about her feathers, body shape, and nature was that of a bird. She hardly changed her path, though there was a few times where she would tilt her wings just slightly turn to the left or right to avoid a lightning bolt only seconds later. Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of her golden eyes and he was more than curious to know if it was just because she was immortal or a griffin.

What he didn't like was how the rain was so cold. Since it was still warm out and neither Jessica or John had warned him of incoming rain, War had not worried himself about getting a jacket of some sorts. So now he was resorting to use a tarp that he had pulled up over of his head, miserably holding the slick reins as weariness began to fall upon him. It probably didn't help that he was still wearing nothing but overalls because he was so large. He hadn't slept either for a full day either and it was past midday now. Abbygail had already warned him about dozing off in this grassland; demons, Angels, animals, or humans could jump out at any moment. Ruin had already stopped twice with his ears lifted high to let something move through the grass in front of them several times in just the past hour. The rain seemed to bring all sorts of creatures out.

Pulling the tarp down a little further over his face, the Red Horseman cringed as a raindrop fell and rolled down across his nose. Mumbling to himself, he studied the reins in his hands for a moment before looking back up. While he enjoyed the grassland, there wasn't much to look at. He had lost sight of the tree line an hour after they had started and not many animals made an appearance the closer that they got to the center. There was one tree that was just beginning to rise out of the grass that grew with every step that Ruin took. Nothing even tried to attack them. If anything came close in a threatening manner, which had happened only once, Abbygail only needed to approach them before the potential enemy fled.

Glancing up, War was slightly confused to find that Abbygail was no longer flying above him. He studied the sky a little while longer, wondering if he should be concerned, but then decided against it, figuring that the black griffin could take care of herself. She should be able too anyways; questions like the one she asked this morning were only said by strong people.

Ruin halted. War's gaze fell down to his Shire horse, watching as the stallion's head lifted as his black ears rose as if he was listening to something. He frowned as Ruin snorted, his flaring nostrils particularly the only thing noticeable on the horse with his soaked black fur. When War tried to urge him forward, claiming that they didn't have time for stops, the horse shook his head before flinging his nose toward the only tree that was in the grassland. Pulling the tarp closer over his bare shoulders, War narrowed his eyes and squinted at the spot that Ruin seemed to be so concerned about.

It took a second for the Horseman to comprehend that something was moving toward them. He straightened, calling out to Ruin, and directed the horse slightly off course, urging him faster. Ruin didn't move until War flicked the reins across his hide; it jerked the stallion awake and he darted forward, his hooves surprisingly loud against the rain, cart, and thunder as he cantered forward. His fright was obvious; he tossed his head about and his wide eyes were just visible when he flung his forelocks about.

The tarp seemed against War as he struggled to turn around, ice blue eyes searching for Chaosester. The sword had been much too big for him to carry around -without his Nephilim strength, he had found that hurling it everywhere was just plain tiresome- and had taken Abbygail's advice on leaving it in the cart. It had seemed reasonable at first, but now he was regretting his decision. "How the hell does something that big disappear in this mess?" he mumbled out loud as he shifted through the mostly empty bags. "It's got to be here somewhere!"

A sharp sting ran up the side of his hand and he retracted it in surprise. For a second, he stared at the red liquid that was beginning to spill from the cut running across the middle of his palm. Ignoring it, War dove back down into the mess and pulled free Chaoseater with a grunt, ignoring how a bag or two was lost in the process.

His eyes found the thing chasing them and was confused to find something similar to a box on wheels racing after them.

He wasn't allowed time to stare because Ruin screeched and, quite suddenly, the cart was spilling over sideways and he was being thrown from the front seat forcefully. Chaoseater was dislodged from his grip when he landed harshly on his side, his breath being knocked from his chest. The grass barred his view from everything it felt like; the commotions outside of roaring, screeching animals, and shouting was blocked from him as he struggled to sit up and catch his breath all at the same time.

And then it was unearthly silent.

War remained where he was, propped on his elbows as he listened carefully. A few more silent seconds passed before someone released an awful battle cry, being raised by a couple more all different in voice before it dissolved into laughter and congratulations. Clearly it is the Kingdom of Man. No Angel or Demon would celebrate like that.

"Hey! Hey, Boss! Won't there someone in that cart? Livvi says she saw someone in that cart!"

"Maybe she was imagining things."

"I wasn't imaginin' shit! I wasn't the one who missed that Stalker!"

"Hey! If someone else wasn't standin' in the way, I wouldn't have missed shit!"

Definitely Kingdom of Man. Grunting, War pushed himself to his knees and discarded the tarp, glancing at the bleeding wound on his hand before continuing to ignore it. Ruin whinnied somewhere and a few shouts followed, a scream of pain echoing after a couple of seconds as shouts of warning rose. He wasn't able to make them out before four red eyes were suddenly glowing in front of him and he froze. Shit. This must be the Stalker that had been missed.

With a roar, it lurched forward. He was reminded of its gruesome jaws and teeth back when he had been on attempting to redeem himself; he had encounter countless of Stalkers and other demons. They had been easy enough to defeat, to rip in two, but he had also been a Nephilim back then, not a human. It couldn't be that hard to fight one now. He still had his gauntlet at least.

War rolled sideway out of the demon's plan of attack and into a thick patch of the waist deep grass. Pebbles and debris flew as he forced himself to a stop, lifting his head up only to find that his sight was completely useless. As a human, he had found that his senses had weakened incredibly. Sight had became his main sense. What he could smell was dirt and grass. What he could feel was the soil underneath him, brown and soft from the baby grass underneath. What he could hear was a combination of sounds; humans were shouting at one another as something continuously roared, shifting speeds by the different pitches of it, and the Stalkers nipped, growled, and barked. Ruin had yet to make another sound and Abbygail was still absent.

The Stalker released another roar somewhere in front of him; he pushed himself up into his feet and slowly stood until he could peer across the tops of the grass. He felt stupid crouching down like this, but he wanted to see where the Stalker had gone too. The tree that he had spotted a while back stood nearby and several humans from their waists up were visible as they darted about in a clearly practiced format. Red ridges of the Stalker sometimes became lurched from the grass to make an appearance, occasionally joined by its massive tail as it jerked upwards. War watched as the humans boxed in the Stalker, their guns balanced in their arms as they barked at each other. The Horseman smirked. They were to need more than guns.

It was then that the box thing that he had noticed earlier appeared; two humans were inside, the male driving while the female encouraged him to put 'the pedal to the metal' and drive. Most of it was open, making it different from the things that he had seen when he had came to Earth by accident, and only seemed to contain the two by metal bars and a net. One second they were moving, the next they had halted, the man making a whooping noise that seemed strange when his mouth was covered by a bandana. Balanced neatly in the woman's arms was a gun and it adjusted its aim only for a brief second when the Stalker exploded from the grass to attack a man. The demon had just enough time to release a roar before it was shot, a bullet from the woman's gun shooting clean through its eye. It crumpled to the ground, feet from the man it had been attacking, and the Kingdom of Man cheered once again.

Who were these people? Abbygail hadn't warned him about anything like this and he watched as they loaded the dead Stalker onto the back of another transportation thing larger than the box-like one. They didn't appear to be that stupid; they had just killed a Stalker with one bullet. An impressive feat for many people. Another gunshot rang out, followed by more cheering in the distance. It took War a second to realize what they were doing.

They were hunting the Stalkers.

A roar came from behind him and he turned just in time to see a Stalker leaping by, tongue lolling as its eyes bulged out from its head. War jumped out of the way as another box-like thing zipped by. This time it's passenger saw him; he caught a fleeting glimpse of blond hair on a man's face and a pair of gray eyes as the thing kept going at a truly ridiculous speed. Stumbling forward, War was surprised when he heard several gunshots going off near the same time, some repeating themselves when the Stalkers' howls of pain didn't end after a few seconds. Just as he was about to disappear back into the grass, a loud roar announced the arrival of the box-like things and two speed in front of him, blocking him off efficiently as they circled him.

He was caught off guard by the humans that the things housed. They looked messy almost, none being as clean cut as Jessica or John. Dark, loose clothing covered their frames and one even had fabric that covered half of his face, his wide nose and bushy sideburns giving away his masculinity. They whooped in excitement as more joined the first two, creating a beaten down circle of golden grass. War felt trapped as even more came, seemingly in waves, some on single passenger things while one even had seven that were crammed in the back of it, all of them with their guns held high as they hollered out. Colorful paint decorated some of their faces and visible skin, their hair wild.

Humans, clearly. But altogether a group. This was something else that had been forgotten to be mentioned to him.

Finally, one of the box-like things halted, slinging mud and water everywhere. War watched, straightening to appear more intimidating, as a medium height man stepped from the driver's side, yanking back his dark hood to reveal a rather boyish smirk on a round, handsome face. The man was on the younger side since he wasn't boring any wrinkles or streaks of white through his black, wind blown shoulder length hair. His face was covered with a beard that was truly the only thing well kept on his body; his clothes had rips and stitched holes, his hands bloody, and his smirk promised mischievous things in the future. One arm was uncovered, showing off the lean muscles underneath and a series of painted, tattoo looking designs that reached his elbow. Several weapons hung from a leather belt; two knives on one side, a machete on the other, and a curved piece of metal was tied next to the machete. Nothing about the man seemed that scary -if anything, if his laughing brown eyes had something to do with it, he seemed to have a jolly personality. However, when he flung his arms open in greeting, the silver and other valuable jewelry that flashed with the bolt of lightning revealed the man's true nature. Unless the man enjoyed wearing simple clothing, the Horseman doubted that the jewelry was his own.

"Welcome to Edgar's Valley! Place of few dreams!" the man called out with a wide smile, his words heavily accented with a dialect unknown to War. "Tierra de los sueños muertos y creaciones celestiales," he added, causing others to snicker.

War glanced around at the Kingdom of Man surrounding him, taking note of the almost hungry faces. Blood covered most of them, some mixing with their paint, and they were all staring at him with interest as some exited their transportation things slowly. They had began to circle him, trapping him like he was their prey. One of the Stalkers that had been killed was already on the back of one, its jaws limply hanging open as dried blood stained its head wound. The others had a variety of random items; different color clothing, pieces of wood, meat, more jewelry. War was counting on them being thieves, though merchants could possibly be an answer too but he didn't know of any merchant that killed Stalkers so effortlessly.

"Mi amigo," called out the man when War didn't answer. "Silencioso amigo, what is your name?"

Remaining where he was, War allowed his gaze to dart between the Kingdom of Man and their inventions. Was this how they had adapted to a life full of Hell? They had resolved to stealing from others that were in need? But that couldn't be but so true; Jessica and John were farmers who took people in under their care and Abbygail had mentioned others scattered about. And there was a town that they were going to, which housed Death's savior from his illness. There are always a bad bunch of apples, he supposed.

"Ah, Pueblo, I don't know why you're even tryin'," called out one of the men that were circling War, gun held loosely in his hands. "I don't think he can speak a lick of English, let alone Spanish. Just get his cart and horse so we can get out of here."

The man, Pueblo, met War's eyes and frowned. "He understands us just fine, Harry."

"How can you tell?" one of the only women asked, leaning forward around the glass on the front of the box thing. Like the others, her hair was wild and frizzy, brown in color with bright beads tied in. Half of her head was covered by a dark bandana that had a skull painted on it; most of her bare arms had similar pieces of dreadful art decorating them. When she smiled, half of her front tooth was missing and War couldn't help but to notice the scar that split her lip in the same spot that the tooth was placed. "That's a fine hunk of muscle, ain't it, Twix?" She elbowed the man beside her, who's face was mostly covered by a bandana except for his eyes, eyebrows, and forehead. Twix merely snorted.

"I can tell by his eyes," Pueblo announced, reaching up to play with his beard as he approached War cautiously. The Horseman straightened to show who was stronger as an instinct, not helping but to smirk when Pueblo hesitated. "He's a warrior, too. Prefers up-close and personal combat than distance, un verdadero guerrero. I can tell by the depth of his scars, Livvi," he added when the woman opened her mouth again.

"Still doesn't look like much," Harry grunted out loud enough for War to hear.

"But who are we to judge, mi amigo." Pueblo's comment caused Harry to lapse into silence. The obvious leader looked at War once more, studying him for a second before giving him a wide smile and bowing his head a little. "I am Pueblo Cortez, Master of the Guards at Dalestown. Dios bendiga a nuestra ciudad. Who are you, mi silencioso amigo?"

The Horseman's eyes locked upon Pueblo, a scowl growing upon War's face the longer that he stood there. They were thieves. But Pueblo was Master Guard of his town; was it possible that he stole from his own town or he was lying? Silently wishing that Abbygail was there to explain things for him, War straightened and proudly proclaimed his name for the group of Man to hear. Some seemed stupid and probably wouldn't think twice of his name, though he noticed how Pueblo became a little uneasy.

"War? What kind of name is that?"

"Usted imbécil! This guy's name is Twix!" Livvi snapped, slinging an arm to motion to the quiet masked beside her. "And you're hairy, Harry! ¡La gente hoy en día! ¡Tan grosero!"

Harry scrunched his nose up at her as another roar sounded about the grassland to announce the arrival of another stalker. Once again the men began moving; they raced back to their transportation and raced away, most just visible by their heads. The only ones that remained were Livvie, Twix, and Pueblo. War stared openly when Pueblo stepped closer to him, offering a hand. "Need a ride?"

<<•>>

Livvi called them a 'dune buggy.'

She explained them as a smaller, but better version of a car that could go off terrain with 800 horsepower and top speed of about 70 miles per hour. The one they currently had was from the twenty-first century; they had found several in perfect condition at an abandon junk yard and had "borrowed" the gasoline from some rich guy who wasn't going to use it anyways and had discovered an old oil factory with plenty leftover. Twix, she claimed, knew even more about the buggy than she did since he was the one who was constantly working on them.

Most of the phrases she used he didn't understand. He had no idea what she meant when she said that she preferred the Honda four-wheelers than the Arctic Cat ones. He questioned how something could have 800 horsepower when there clearly weren't 800 horses pulling them. He could assume what 70 miles per hour meant, but he had no idea what or how long miles were.

He also didn't understand why she sometimes switched languages. Most of the creatures he knew only spoke one language for their race; the Nephilim had one tongue that they all spoke, not several like Livvi explained when he asked. Why have multiple languages when you are all humans? Insane. Too much work. However, he liked hearing it. He couldn't help but enjoy how most of the humans in the little group would sometimes say things that he didn't understand -this new language was quick, beautiful in a way. Later, when all of them stopped staring at him, he would ask what it was called.

As it turned out, War's first assumption that they were thieves was wrong. Pueblo wasn't kidding when he said that they were guards. The town that Abbygail and War had planned on going to -Edgar's Town- was the same one that Pueblo apparently watched over. The small group of fifteen men and three women with him were humans that volunteered to protects the people who lived there day and night. If War could take Pueblo's word for it, the Stalkers had approached the town earlier, hoping for an easy meal, and the Commander had separated his group of volunteers, saying that they had to take down the 'sons of bitches who tried to attack his town.' Livvi said he was very passionate about protecting his town, which was also where he was born.

However, no matter how noble that Pueblo and Livvi made their group sound, War could tell that they weren't telling him something.

There was no way that a group of humans who sacrificed everything in life would have that many things like they said could have this many luxuries. Pueblo wasn't the only one who wore an assortment of jewelry; Livvi wore several gold hoops in her ears, Harry had a large cross necklace that sat proudly on his chest, and even Twix had a silver necklace hanging about his neck. And the dune buggies... the way that Livvi explained their 'burrowing' did not make it sound like they were that great. Plus, some of the looks that the other humans were giving him, including the arrogant Harry, that seemed like they wished to rob everything that was on him.

Right now they had stopped for supper, since they wouldn't be getting in until latter. The humans had parked the buggies close together within reaching distance. The Horseman sat in the middle of the group, absolutely horrified as he slowly ate his food and watched, of the humans as they leaned across the buggies to steal another person's food and things just flew through the air. A fork darted by his nose and he glared at the man that caught it as everyone about him cheered. Who knew that just fifteen humans could be this loud? Ruin, who had been hooked back to his cart, had moved away to eat at the shorter grass to get away from the noise. It helped to distract the Horseman that he had Jessica's food to eat; the other things that they ate looked funny to him, complex even, and seemed to be everywhere at once. Most of it smelled funny too.

"Do you know someone named Abbygail?" War blurted out.

Livvi looked back up at him, mouth full of what she called a ham sandwich. She had turned to where her back was resting on the dashboard and had draped her legs to where they dangled outside of the buggy. The others were either lodging out like Livvi or Twix, who was eating calmly unlike the others, or was situated in the back of the buggies like War and four-wheelers, loud and obnoxious. Pueblo ate perched on one of the dune buggies, scouting.

"A who?" Livvi swallowed her food. "Abbygail? You know how many of those I know? At least eight. How does she spell it?"

"Um..."

"You can't be askin' me about a girl if you don't know how she spells her name! She must be very pretty, if she caught your attention, te apuesto hombre."

War blinked at her, wondering if he should desire to know what she had just said. "I have yet to learn your common tongue, let alone know how your language is written."

Livvi leaned toward him, eyebrows raised with an easy smile on her face. "You never answered me if she was pretty."

His gaze dropped to the large bowl in his lap. It kept one of Jessica's delicious meals, her amazingly still fresh sub full of tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, pickles, ham, turkey, onions, and pretty much anything else that she could get on that sandwich. Compared to the other meals around him, his looked like the best around and he was getting some curious looks. Mumbling to himself, War decided to return to his sub.

"Oh, I see what this is! Ella debe ser bastante continuación, if she caught your eye."

Scrunching his nose, War ignored a human as they reached in front of him, seizing a French fry from an unsuspecting person. "She is very beautiful, but I am beginning to think that I may not be in her league."

"And why is that?" Livvi's head cocked to the side.

"She..." War trailed off. "We are both busy fighting our own demons. We could not possibly keep a stable relationship." He continued to eat, slightly depressed after admitting something like that out loud.

Livvi's caramel eyes stared at him until she suddenly burst out laughing. War stared at her, confused. "If you're worried about that, mi amigo, you will never get anywhere! If you feel it here-" the woman leaned forward, taking her hand and placing it over his heart before returning to her seat- "then you must try. You can't just let someone slip by. Hell, I did that once. I've regretted it since then."

"She's right, you know." War glanced to see Harry, who was furiously chewing whatever that was in his hands. It looked like a dead animal and War wouldn't put it pass him to eat something raw. "You wanna some ass, you better get it before someone else does. Mujer absoluto como algo de amor."

The rest of Livvi's ham sandwich went flying through the air and slammed into Harry's face. With a yelp, he tumbled over the side of the dune buggy and uproarious laughter surrounded War as the humans laughed at the man who had fallen, Livvi dusting off her hands like she had accomplished something large. She flashed War a smile. "Don't listen to that idiot. Doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Would be nice if I knew the first time," War grumbled.

"You want to be with this woman, then you've got to grow some balls and go after her!" exclaimed Livvi, lifting a fist up in the air to provide emphasis. "Be a man and tell her that you like her! Not just her ass!"

"Be a romantic!" another man called out from the other side of the farthest dune buggy. "Woman love it when you get all lovey dovey!"

"Yeah, right, Huckleberry, when was the last time that you had someone in your bed?"

Another round of light-hearted laughter went around the group and War managed to keep his own chuckles from sounding. "But seriously," someone on his left said, seriousness lacing through his tone. "No one thought that Pueblo was going to get married, but he did. All he did was tell her that she was everything in his life and I feel like they were tying the knot the next day."

War's gaze flickered to the dark haired man that was now watching them, twirling the gold ring on his left ring finger subconsciously. "Why is that surprising?"

"'Cause no woman could ever keep him from leavin'. Then one night he meet her, she told him to stick it up his ass, and he's been smitten by her ever since because she was the first to tell him no. Weird, right? She started liking him when he started changing. From thieving, he started guarding that town 'cause he couldn't go see her if kept acting up."

"Why couldn't he see her?" War asked after pausing to think. That one part stuck out to him the most.

The humans all looked up at their leader, respect all in their eyes. War did the same, not helping but to notice how tired that Pueblo seemed to be as he tried to remain calm despite everyone looking at him. "I couldn't see her because she lives in a hellhole that her older sister made for her," he said, voice gruff. "No one can enter that place if they intend any harm to anyone in there. If you've killed anything in the last week, it knows and won't let you in. The only way you get in is if the spirit that guard it says so."

"What spirit?"

"It's her sister or at least she thinks so." Pueblo sighed, running a hand down his face and letting a beam of the setting sun to blind War momentarily. "She was ripped apart by a bunch of demons and shot to pieces by some angels in the middle of one of their damned firefights... She never truly left the planet." Pueblo tilted his head, his hand darting across his chest in some sort of quick gesture.

War frowned. A soul not going into the Well of Souls? While it wasn't unheard of, War thought that Azreal had taken care of that situation; sure, Death had reserved it a while ago, but it should be back to normal by now. "Can you take me to this place?"

"Did you not hear me, mi amigo? You can't get in. I'm taking you to town and that's it. You want back, then you find you're own way."

Pueblo's response did not go unnoticed by the Horseman. Narrowing his eyes, War finished the last of his meal and glanced over to where Ruin was standing, head lifted and his ears flicked up almost curiously. "I could help the spirit get to where it needs to be."

An uneasy shift cause the humans about him to lean away. Pueblo sat straighter, fingers playing his beard. "Cómo? You are as human as me."

The side of War's mouth twitch. Human, yes. He was no longer a Horseman who had access to things like that. Unless he wanted to risk his life, he wasn't going to making any deals with any immortal soul either. "I have my ways."

"Your ways are no better than mine," Pueblo spat. "Unless you're a warlock, there is nothing that you can do." The man hopped down from his perch on the buggy and approached War almost threateningly. "I have spent three years searching for libraries, powerful witches, and anything else that could possibly send her to
donde Dios descansa. It's not possible unless you're something that you haven't told us."

War popped his neck. Sliding off the side of his own dune buggy, the Horseman straightened to his full height, pushing his chest out to appear larger, and stepped up to the silent threat that Pueblo had shown him. "I feel as if you have not been as truthful either, small man."

A snarl grew on Pueblo's lips and the man snapped his fingers. Guns cocked behind him and War turned his head just enough to see several pointed in his direction, the lighthearted men and women he had seen earlier being replaced by cold beings. The Horseman turned his gaze back to Pueblo, expressionless.

"Too scared to fight me alone, human?"

There was a sudden roar -War was beginning to become a tad bit annoyed by how she like to create her cliché entrances- and he wasn't surprised when a black griffin landed near them, large wings opened wide as the feathers down her back bristled. Her orange eyes blazed with anger and Pueblo took a step back when Abbygail snapped her beak, creating a loud clanking noise. Tail snapping back and forth, she swung around, standing up onto her back legs as she roared once more, causing Livvi and one other woman to scream in surprise. The Horseman was about to tell her calm down when he realized something as she dove away from them, claws extended as something in the grass darted about.

Abbygail was protecting them.

And, as a huge wolf barreled toward him, Abbygail with her claws in the wolf's body and too small to stop its path, he realized that he was going to have to move.

Or die trying.