(AN: Okaaay, well, something was definitely happening with the indentations here. Looks like something's up with the italics too. I think it's because docs will auto-tab things for you and it didn't register when I copy pasted. Hopefully it won't be too bad to deal with, because I am way to lazy to go back and fix every indent/italic. Also, this is a long ass chapter. My chapters are always long. You have been warned~)

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My light dun horse, Windy, galloped across the open Wyoming plain I called a backyard. The wind in my hair and the sunset in my eyes, I was ready for a long, relaxing ride around the property. It was the first evening I'd had to myself in a while, and I was looking forward to making the best of my spring break.

     I whistled into the sky joyfully. "Windy!" I yelled, not really caring that she couldn't respond "I don't think anything could screw this up!" I talked to that horse a lot. A lot more than I should've, probably. She was kind of like my living diary. Instead of writing all my problems down, I just told her everything.  Actually talking to something that can listen is a lot more comforting than filing papers with painful memories so that they can sit there and fester. Besides, it's not like she was going to tell anyone what I said. My secrets were safest with her.

     I was just about to say something else about how perfect this uninterrupted alone time would be when I felt something vibrate in my back pocket.  "Oh for the love of..." I yanked on Windy's reigns, slowing her gallop to an uneasy stop. I dug in my jeans pocket for my phone, grumbling all the while. It was a miracle we had any kind of reception at all where I lived, and I was wishing, just this once, that I was out of range. The ever annoying Google Hangouts ringtone was blaring from my speakers, and I turned the device over to see who was calling. Of course, it was Phil, whose glowing blue-green biohazard icon was currently gracing my screen. I reluctantly answered the call and waited for the video feed to load.

    Phil and I had an... interesting history, to say the least. We told most people that we met on a game server while playing Team Fortress 2, which was true. We did meet on TF2. After we met on a cryptid research website called The Crypto-Zone. (For any of you who don't know what a cryptid is, just think Bigfoot. Pretty much sums it up.) Yeah, stupid name, I know, but it really is a good site, one of the best out there. Most people who use it regularly  just call it The Zone. Anyways, me and Phil got in touch there, and pretty soon we were friends. We had a lot in common. We both lived out in the middle of nowhere, we both liked dubstep and rock, and most importantly, we were both huge nerds when it came to anything supernatural or mysterious.

    What had really made us inseparable, though, was my Dad dying. He passed away in a car wreck when I was 15. Phil was 18 at the time, and he flew out from his home in Lewistown, Montana to help me and my mom get through the tough times that followed. Mom wasn't really very fond of him before that. I think she saw him as a bad influence, not because of anything he did, but because I'd met him on the internet. Stereotypes for the win, am I right? Since he stayed with us though, she's had no problem with him, and he's like a brother to me. 

    When the call started, a familiar set of light blue eyes greeted me, hiding behind a pair of square glasses and a poorly kept shock of pale blonde hair, which was hurriedly pulled back in a short ponytail.

    Before I could even get the words, "What do you want?" out of my mouth, he was chattering away. "Leslie, Leslie, Leslie!!! Guess what!" He chirped, bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy.  "You remember that Chupacabra case we were looking at, down in New Mexico? Well this morning the farmer, Gorzberg, he shot something out in his pasture! he killed it!! Les, he's got the body, and I have pictures!" He turned to his computer and started typing something in, "I'm sending them to you now. The guy had the sense to put the remains on ice after he brought them in, and everyone within two states of him is rushing to ge-"

    "Phil." I said slowly. He stopped typing and looked at me through the screen. "I thought I told you not to call me for the next few days unless you had news about THE case."

    Phil blinked at me. "Leslie... Leslie!" He laughed, spinning his chair so that his whole body faced me. "Do you not think we can make an exception here?! I mean, this is the best Chupacabra specimen we've had in years, and these pictures are amazing! If there's more creatures on Gorzberg's farm, which there probably are, given the number of cows they killed, then we might finally have found the case that proves the existence of one of the most famous cryptids of all time!"

    "Oh, you know how these things always go." I said, rolling my eyes, "As soon as any kind of official group gets a hold of it, they'll dismiss it as another hoax."

    Phil gave an offended little huff, and tilted his head at me. "Les, you haven't seen the pictures. And Gorzberg is pissed about the cattle dying! You really think he'd slaughter half his herd for publicity? Two of his prize steers were sucked dry! There's no way this is a hoax!"

    I eased off the you're-an-idiot pedal a bit and said as coolly as I could, "You're missing the point. Even if it is for real, they'll still write it off as a hoax. Like any mainstream science guy is going to admit there's a species of large animal living in the U.S. that we haven't discovered yet."

    Phil scoffed again, but it wasn't directed at me this time. "Yeah. Thats just fancy talk for 'They won't admit it when they're wrong'. Which is, by the way, completely unscientific."

"Exactly." I said. "Now if you'll kindly let me get back to my ride..."

Phil did a double take and leaned towards the camera, squinting. "Wait, what?" He said, obviously confused. "Whaddaya' mean 'ride'? Where are you?" I glanced at the feed of my own face at the bottom of the screen. I was basically just a grey silhouette against the orange-gold Wyoming sky.

"I'm out in the yard riding Windy." I replied bluntly, about to hang up on him.

"You're on a horse?" Phil said, as if he'd never seen a horse in his life, even though he'd helped me take care of Windy after Dad died. "You answered my video call on a horse?!"

"Yeah, I did. Talk to you tomorrow, nimrod."

"Hey! No, wai-" I ended the call. A moment passed, then a message popped up on the hangouts chat. Fine, I don't like you either. followed by an emoji with its tongue sticking out. I smiled, knowing he was probably doing the same, and shoved the phone back in my pocket.

Windy had taken to grazing while Phil and I talked, so I tugged her reins a bit and she lifted her head. I got her started into a trot, and we were cruising  along when I saw something move in the grass ahead of us. A tiny little voice in my head screamed Chupacabra, and I pulled Windy to a sharp stop. Then, a slender brown head, graced with long, pronged horns peeped up above the grass. I sighed. It was just an antelope.

Windy and I watched as several more heads popped up around the first one. It was a whole herd of antelope. They were only about twenty feet in front of us, and slightly to the left. I thought about pulling my phone out again and taking a picture, but a sudden surge of mischief, possibly a result of my conversation with Phil, made me change my mind.  I tightened my grip on the reins.

"Well, Windy." I said, coaxing her into a jog, "I wonder what an antelope's flight distance is." We bolted forward, and all the antelope looked straight at us. Even more heads popped up, bringing the number of animals in the herd from about five to something more like 12.                    

I whooped loudly as Windy and I crashed through the grass. All the antelope bolted, and a few of them made weird noises. I honestly didn't even know that antelope made noises. I laughed giddily as they dashed away at a speed far faster than Windy and I could hope to match. I felt like some kind of crusader, chasing mongols from a battleground.

As Windy slowed from a gallop to a canter, I raised my hand in the air, pretending to hold a sword above my head and called, "I claim this land for the Gidman family!! Begone, ye' antelope heathens!!" then collapsed back into the saddle laughing hysterically. Windy trotted with her head held high, obviously proud of her performance, and I patted her neck, repeating between laughs, "Good girl, Windy! Good girl!"        

I watched the ground pass by beneath us as I tried to keep my side from hurting. Patches of dirt were visible between the dark green clumps of grass.

Wait. Wait, what? I sat up straight, looking quizzically at the landscape around me. The grass was never dark green around here! Not even in the height of summer! If we got good rain, it might turn a light shade of apple or spring green, but not the dark, damp color I could see here.

I brought Windy to a halt. I leaned over her side, and as I did, I became keenly aware of a strange smell. Was that... mulch? What? I looked down again, and this time, without the blur of motion, I could tell what I was really looking at. The grass around Windy's feet was wilted and rotted into a dark, green-brown matt against the dusty ground. I felt my gut twist slightly and my head buzzed with a sudden surge of nervous energy. I craned my neck to look in front of us and behind us. It was the same story there. A long strip of grass, maybe three or four feet wide, had been trampled and rotted out.

Obviously, the same little voice in my head that screamed Chupacabra when I saw the antelope was shrieking like a police siren, now. However, Phil had me well trained in the ways of thorough investigation, and if there was any logical explanation for this, I was gonna find it. Carefully, I dismounted Windy.

Crouching to the ground, I examined what was left of the grass and other plant life. All of it was dead, decomposed so badly I could barely tell what was what. The only thing left alive was a variety of feeble mushrooms, which made their way shakily out of the rotting flora. Even they seemed weak and unhealthy, not that I was any kind of expert on fungi. The grass to the sides of the path was dead or dying too. Like, something had rotted a hole right through the field. It was as if all the plants on this particular patch of land had just decided to commit mass suicide or something!

My mind was racing through a list of possible causes for the anomaly when my gaze passed over a patch of barren earth just beneath Windy's hind hooves. A patch that looked an awful lot like a footprint. Oh God, was I seriously going to consider this? I was. I stood up swiftly and took Windy by the reins, moving her slightly away from the bald spot on the ground so I could take a look.

I bent down again and placed my fingers to the dirt. No, not dirt, sand. Thin, cold, sand. I felt wrong just touching it. Nervously, I looked back down the strip where we had come from. More of the patches dotted the ground, forming a pattern eerily consistent with the gait of a bipedal, humanoid creature.

Now, I don't know if you've ever experienced this, but if you have any kind of interest in things of a cryptic or supernatural nature, and you think you've found something... well, you get this buzz. It's a strange mixture of excitement and fear and curiosity that can't be matched by anything else on Earth. That's what I felt as I looked at those footprints in that field. A wild rush of emotion. The thrill of energy running through my veins.

I sat motionless for a few seconds before I stood and turned to mount Windy. I was going to find out what made this track, if it was the last thing I did. "Windy!" I said, clicking my tongue, "C'mon girl! We're gonna see where this thing leads!" She ignored me, her head to the ground, sniffing curiously. That's weird. I thought. Windy was usually very easy to work with, but she was obviously more interested in the ground than me right now. I didn't blame her.

"Yoo-hoo, Windy!" I sing-songed, walking in front of her. The rotten plants beneath me squished slightly, and the sound gave me shivers. Ignoring that detail, I crouched by Windy and stroked her forehead. I watched her carefully. Animals tend to have pretty keen instincts when it comes to the paranormal, and I wanted to take any cues this horse gave me. She snorted in response to my petting, but otherwise seemed enthralled with the footprint. She touched her nose to the ground and let out a deep breath, sending a small plume of sand into the air. She then raised her head and finally turned her attention to me.

"Hey girl." I said, moving my hand to her neck. She lifted her head fully and I stood up. "What's up?" I said as calmly as I could. She began to walk down the track in the direction that the footprints led, a happy bounce in her step. I just watched her walk for a moment before snapping back to reality and springing to catch up with her. I was surprised that she wasn't anxious, but took it as a good sign. At least I didn't seem to be walking to my doom.

"Windy! Windy!" I laughed as I caught hold of her reins, "You can't just leave me behind, stupid!" I stepped into the saddle and let Windy walk her own course. My mind was running a million miles an hour. I wondered what awaited us at the end of this trail. I wondered how far it went. Oh jeeze, what time was it? What if we followed it so far we didn't get home till, like, midnight, or one in the morning? What would mom say if that happened? I didn't want to scare her, but I had to know what caused this! This was a once in a lifetime occurrence, I couldn't let it slip through my fingers! Maybe I should call Phil... Or maybe I should be videotaping this. Oh, shi-! Why wasn't I videotaping this?!?!

Just as I was sure I was about to have a mental breakdown, Windy picked up her pace and shook me from my daze. I found that I had been staring at the saddle, and promptly looked up to see where we were. Sagebrush speckled hills rolled around us, and the lustrous light of the sunset bathed them in gold. A large oak tree sat in the midst of a sea of waving grass, a towering obelisk on the seething ocean of the plains. I knew this place a mile away. It was our tree. Me and Dad's tree. We had ridden out here on many a sunday just to sit and talk and watch the clouds go by.

My  most vivid memory of the place was Dad telling me about the circle of life. I know, thats cheesy as hell, but I'm completely serious. He brought me out there one day when I was in about fourth grade, and we climbed up to one of our favorite sitting branches and he talked to me about how all things live and die, and why the hawk hunted the rabbit and the wolf hunted the elk, and about forests and rivers and lakes and birds and mushrooms and all that. I don't know why he decided I needed that little spiel right then and there, but he made sure I understood every word of it, Honestly, I think he just pulled the whole thing from the Lion King and changed the animals around, but it stuck in my mind like hot glue.

And now, there I was, riding towards our tree on my own for the first time since Dad had passed, and his words were echoing around in my head, reminding me about life and death, and suddenly the only thing I could think about was the fact that he was gone. The pain of losing my father and the maelstrom of energy caused by the possibility of me finding a cryptid in my own backyard clashed in my stomach, creating a violent tornado of emotion that almost sent me sliding off Windy's back. Ever the sensitive and observant mare, she came to a halt, ears flicking tentatively. I steadied myself, blinking profusely to try and bring the world into focus.

I looked toward the tree again. It's leaves were just beginning to emerge from their buds, and the bright new foliage sparkled in the sunset's glow. Again, Dad's words were ringing in my ears, but this time, they were words of life and hope. "Even after the longest, hardest of winters," He had said "This old tree always comes back. I think there's something to be learned from that." How many times had Mom said that Dad would've wanted us to move on, and not dwell in the past? More than I could count. And how many times had she been right? ... More than I could count.

"Mother of God..." I mumbled under my breath, a pained smile on my lips. I rubbed at my watery eyes with the back of my hand. "Do I have to be doing this right now?" Seriously, now, of all times, did I have to be reminded of him? I looked at the ground, studying the dusty footprints in the grass. What was I doing? I didn't have time for this.

"Alright, Windy, I'm good now. Let's get moving." I spurred her gently forward, and again we were making our way intrepidly towards our unknown destination.

We crested  a small rise, and a situation that was already really friggin' weird got even weirder. Beneath the tree was a huge circle of sand, probably more than 40 feet across. I was stunned, and I could feel my jaw drop as I stared. There was something in the center of the ring... a rock maybe? It was brown in the middle, grey on the sides and bottom, and had a black spot near the top.  The grey patches had a dull, almost metallic sheen to them. The whole thing looked to be roughly two or three feet tall, but I couldn't really tell. There was nothing close enough to it to accurately judge its height.

As I pondered what the H-E-double-hockey-stick that thing could be I was hit with a sudden and profound realization. The tracks led into the circle, but not out.

My stomach did several consecutive somersaults. One thing was for sure, the object I was staring at, whatever it was, almost had to be what created the trail. A terrified, ecstatic shiver ran down my spine. The little voice was back, painting pictures in mind of various types of monsters, demons, and werewolves. I could tell it was trying to deter me, but the images only served to strengthen my curiosity and resolve.

My shoulders tensed and I felt the urge to clutch at Windy's reins like lifelines, but instead of doing that, I sat back in the saddle, let my right hand fall to my side, trying to seem composed as I rode down the other side of the slope. Admittedly, my left hand still had a death grip on the reins, but I was determined to face whatever awaited me with steel and confidence, even if my heart was racing like a hummingbird's.

As we got closer to the object, my suspicions were confirmed. Slowly, ever so slightly, the thing pulsed, as if it were breathing. Windy trotted into the ring, still as relaxed as ever. She stopped about four feet inside the edge, obviously waiting for me to get off. I looked at her accusingly, not that she could see me, and then gave the object another long, wary glance. The more I stared at it, the more it started to look like a human being. The black spot swayed with the breeze and caught the light, like hair. The grey parts now distinctly resembled limbs, and the brown was easily just well tanned skin.

For a few moments, a heated debate raged in my head. The instinctual side of me was saying, Leslie, that's a person! That's obviously a person! While my logical side was reminding me that, People don't have grey limbs, retard. Of course, this internal argument only succeeded in making my curiosity rear it's ugly head once again, and before I could think better of it, I was sliding out of the saddle and onto the dusty ground.

I approached the object with extreme caution. As I walked, hunched defensively, my hand searched around my hip, as if trying to find the hilt of a sword to hold. I realized what I was doing that and immediately stopped myself, pulling my hand against my chest and refocusing my attention

Wow, that really does look like a dude, doesn't it? I thought, now about fifteen feet away. From here, everything about the object seemed human, save for the fact that it's arms and legs looked like they were made of metal. It even had on what looked to be a pair of boxers.  I walked another five feet closer, leaned over, and twisted my head around so that it was almost upside down. Now I could see under the rim of black hair on the thing's head.

"Holy shit!" I thought aloud, "It is a person!" A perfectly normal human face was underneath the curtain of hair, eyes closed in a peaceful sleep. Suddenly, all the fear and nervousness was gone, and I strode quickly up to the man and kneeled down, examining him closely.

He looked Middle-Eastern, with darkly tanned skin, a strong jaw, and shaggy black hair that was longer than average, but not hippie-with-a-ponytail long. He had a stubbly half-beard, which didn't really look all that well kempt. It was less of a fashion statement and more of a, "I haven't shaved in three days and I don't really care." look. He was sitting cross legged with his head down, and all he had on in the way of clothing was a pair of worn-out nylon shorts.

I turned my attention to his limbs, which were, in fact, made of metal. I wish I could deny it, but the first explanation for this that occurred to me was  cosplay. Yes, I'm disappointed in me, too. I blame my friend Jasmine for it entirely. She's a massive anime nerd, and she's also the person who introduced me to Fullmetal Alchemist, which is, if you didn't already know, (and you probably didn't) a show about two brothers who try to use Alchemy, (which is really more like magic in this case) to bring their dead mother back to life. But that's taboo, and it backfires on them because for Alchemy to work it needs something of equal value to create something new, and nothing can equal the value of a human soul, which you need to bring someone back to life. The important part is that the main character, Edward, loses his right arm and his left leg and has to get them replaced with something called  Automail, which is pretty much just really amped-up, metal, prosthetic limbs. (The other brother, Alphonse, loses his whole body and Ed has to bind his soul to a suit of armor. If that matters to anyone...)

Anyways, I thought that maybe this guy was doing some sort Fullmetal Alchemist cosplay, because that makes a lot more sense than him having actual Automail or something like that. (And just for the record, his limbs did look a friggin' lot like Automail.)

Without a second thought, I put my hand on his arm, and was shocked to find that it was made of real metal. I was even more shocked by the fact that it was warm to the touch. I let my fingers run down the plate that made up his upper arm, admiring the intricate design of his shoulder. Five or six interlocking sheets formed what would have been the triceps, and another large piece created an elegant shoulder blade. The light grey metal was ever so slightly buffed, just enough to make it feel almost like skin. I found myself amazed at the apparent functionality of it all.

My hand reached the crook of his elbow, and I felt my fingers dip into empty space. Looking down, I saw that there was a U cut out of the upper arm, I assumed so that the forearm could bend into it without getting caught up. I peered inside and saw a series of rods and thin wires, all made of the same material as the outside.

My heart skipped a beat. Welp, this isn't a cosplay. I thought, some of the nerves returning. I racked my brain, trying remember if I had ever heard anything about prosthetics on a level like this.

And that's when the man's arm moved and I almost jumped out of my skin!

I immediately pulled my hand away, barely holding back a yelp. I halfway tried to stand up and sort of toppled backwards into the sand with a pathetic little, foomp. I blinked a few times to get my bearings, then got back to my knees, adrenaline now buzzing in my ears. 

The man took a long, deep breath and rolled his shoulders, which moved as fluidly as if they were organic. Then he brought his metal hands to his face.  He rubbed his eyes a couple of times and let out a soft sigh, then lowered his hands into his lap. I stayed perfectly still, not sure if he he even knew I was there. For a few long moments, he just stared at the ground, blinking away sleep. I could see movement, but most of his face was still hidden behind a curtain of black hair.

Cautiously, I placed a hand on the ground for support, and I guess he must have seen me, because he immediately turned his head in my direction.

The second our gazes met I felt myself freeze. His eyes were SKY BLUE. And when I say sky blue, I don't mean that dull, blue-grey color most people pass off as sky blue. Just think of the deepest, richest, bluest sky you've ever seen, and that's the color his eyes were. I almost lost myself in their azure depths, but he blinked and I snapped out of it. Embarrassed and still fighting away shock, I cast my eyes to the ground in an attempt to regain my composure.

"Hello."

His voice caught me off guard. It was deep and monotone. So much so that one might have described it as robotic. Yet, there was something... warm about it. A deeply human quality that was still detectable beneath the flat speech. My eyes shot back too his face and I found him still staring at me, his expression nearly unreadable. His lips were ever so slightly parted, and his eyes seemed just a bit wide, but otherwise his face was blank.

Words formed shakily in my throat, the thousands of questions I had all manifesting at once, vying for dominance among my vocal chords. But of course, I was in no condition to be putting complex sentences together, so all of those meaningful words died on my lips.

"Hi." I said in a miraculously steady voice.

For the next thirty seconds or so we continued to stare at each other silently, both of us knowing there was absolutely nothing fitting to say in this situation. It was as if there was some kind of cosmic traffic light keeping any conversation from continuing, and we just sat there waiting for the non-existent green light to come on. Finally the moment passed, and the man broke the silence.

"Is this your property?" He asked slowly, looking off to the side. His voice harbored just a tiny hint of uncertainty, but for the most part remained flat.

"Uh...Well..." I mumbled, not sure why that would be his first question. I felt like it should've been something more along the lines of, "How long have I been out?".

"Yhea." I responded, still a little confused.

There was a short pause, and then he said, "Forgive me if my trespassing has caused you any trouble..."

"Trespassing?" I echoed, surprised, "No, no, no, you haven't hurt anything! Except... well... if you killed those plants..." I murmured awkwardly, reluctant to put him on the spot like that.

    The man looked down and away from me. I sensed shame from him, the kind you feel when someone reopens an old wound. The kind you experience when you feel inadequate and weak. The kind I felt whenever somebody brought up the accident, and I still wanted to cry.

    "Yes, that was my doing." He said, his voice not betraying the emotions I had picked up from him. I subconsciously noted his peculiar word choice. He talked like an 18th century noble.

I looked around at the clearing he had created beneath the tree. Again, I became aware of the cold sand beneath me. For a few moments I deliberated over what I should say. Part of me couldn't believe this was even happening. It was frozen in fear and shock. But another part of me felt completely at ease. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that the rot had been caused by a person and not some terrifying monster, or if it was something deeper... Either way, I simply couldn't bring myself to be afraid, even though I knew I should be.

"Will they grow back?" I asked, still looking over my shoulder. The buds on the tree glimmered in the sunlight as I stared at them.

"Yes." The man replied, "It will take time, but the foliage will return. "

I looked at him. His blue eyes met mine, and I smiled. "No harm no foul, then. It's not like we come out here very often, anyways." At least, not anymore. I thought. But I kept that part to myself.

Something like surprise passed over his face for a moment. It was faint and brief, but I still saw it. I was puzzled by the way he seemed to expect me to be angry. I guess a lot of people would be, if they found some random dude asleep on their land. Not to mention the whole plant-genocide thing.

Y'know, come to think of it... why was he out here? I mean, people don't generally wander half naked through the countryside unless there's some sort of reason. Albeit, he obviously wasn't your average person, what with the robot limbs and magical grass killing powers. But still, there had to be a reason.

    "Speaking of which," I said, trying to continue my previous statement. "What does bring you out here? There isn't really much to see."

    The man paused, and just sort of... stared at me, like he didn't know what to say. Then his gaze shifted slowly downward and he said quietly, "I've just been wandering..."

    My eyes widened a little. Something about what he had said, and the way he said it, made me feel that there was something far more to his words than he was trying to let on. I didn't stop to ponder it too long, but it struck me as a strange thing to say.

    "...That still doesn't explain why you're in nothing but a pair of gym shorts." I muttered before I could think better of it.

    For the first time since he woke up the man seemed to realize exactly what he was wearing. Or, more accurately, lack thereof. He muttered something under his breath, and I don't think it was in english, but I'm pretty sure it translated to something along the lines of, "Oh crap."

    He set his hand on his legs in a way that said, "Well. This is a long, complicated story that I don't really wanna tell." He tapped one finger slowly, producing a dull thunk of metal on metal. I again found myself just sitting and waiting for him to speak, and I hoped silently that there wouldn't be a minute and a half  pause between every other sentence we tried to say to each other.

    "I was mugged..." He said slowly. I once again got the impression there was a bit more to it than that, but for the most part I let sleeping dogs lie.

    "Ah." I said, relaxing my shoulders and sitting back to try and loosen up the conversation a little. "When did that happen?"

    "A few days ago." He responded bluntly, as if this kind of thing happened all  the time.

    "A few days ago? In Thermopolis, I assume?" Thermopolis was the town nearest to my house. It was 30 miles away, but it was still the closest. (Hey, when people say Wyoming is big and empty, they aren't kidding. )

"Yes, Thermopolis." He affirmed.

"So when did you get out here?" I asked.

"Earlier today. I was trying to walk away from the road, for... obvious reasons... but I lost track of it and ended up here."

I took a few moments to let what he said sink in. I just sort of stared off into space and nodded absently. Then my brain clicked back into gear and I realised what had seemed off about his statement.

"Wait, you walked all the way here?" I asked, pointing at the ground for emphasis.

"Yes, I did." He said, just as blandly as before.

"Dude." I said, shooting him a look somewhere between a glare and a gasp. "Thermopolis is, like, thirtysomething miles away from here." He nodded, as if he couldn't see where I was going with this.

"And you walked. All the way here. Half naked."

He nodded again.

"Have... h-have you even had anything to eat for the past week?! 'Cause it woulda' taken you a week to get from there to here!"

"I don't believe so." He said, barely seeming phased by that fact.

"Oh my God!" I said, throwing my hands in the air. He recoiled a bit at my sudden display of concern. "Oh my God, dude!" I repeated standing up, "We need to get you some food, and water, and some freaking clothes!"

The man just blinked up at me. He shook his head slightly, then said, "No, no, that's not necess-"

"Oh yes it is! I'm not gonna let you sit out here starving to death!" I squawked.

"I'm not starvi-"

"I won't stand for it!" I crowed, not letting him finish. He had apparently been outside, alone, roasting like a hot dog for several days on end, and he seriously expected me to just leave him there? "Come on. Let's get you to the house and make sure you aren't dying or something...." I turned and started to walk towards Windy.

"Miss, please!" He called. I turned back around, and found myself staring at his collar bone. He had stood up, and now, with both of us on our feet, I could see that he was a good six inches taller than me, and I'm just about 5"7'.

I locked eyes with him and put my hands on my hips, daring him to contest my hospitality. 

"That really isn't necessary." He said, "Are you sure you want to bring a stranger into your home with no warning whatsoever? You have no idea what might happen."

I thought for a moment. He was right. He could rob us, or murder us, or steal our car or something, but at the same time, I knew he wouldn't be any problem at all. I just had a gut feeling. But I couldn't say, "I have good vibes from you, man." and expect him to just buy it, now could I?

I settled on, "Yhea, but you aren't going to try anything weird, are you?" Perfect. He couldn't dodge that one, could he?

He blinked at me again. Then he choked out, "No! No of course not!"

I had him flustered, which was kind of the point. I smiled to myself, and spun on my heel, proud of my quick wit.

"Then it's settled!" I said definitively. I started toward Windy again. "C'mon, we need to get going. Daylight's 'a wasting and we've only got the one horse."

    "Wait." He said lowly. I huffed and looked back at him.

    "What now?"
   
    He took a few steps towards me, eyes to the ground. I sensed that maybe I'd gotten just a bit ahead of myself there. He stood quietly for a few moments, and I eyed him carefully. He raised his hands, staring into his open palms with a rueful intensity. I stared at them, too, and I felt like a little kid, who can't quite see what all of the adults are looking at.  I raised my eyes to his face, and he returned the gesture.

I watched him closely, trying to read his emotions through the iron walls he had surrounded them with. I could tell there was turmoil behind those deep blue eyes of his, but I couldn't quite pin it down. Insatiable curiosity rose from the depths of my subconscious, again threatening to push me blindly into the unknown.

"Are you sure?" He asked, softly. He held his hands out to me, as if he was presenting me with evidence of a crime. As if they somehow made him unclean.

I looked at them, and my gut clenched. The two halves of me were battling again. One screamed at me to run. It cried that this was unnatural and terrifying, and that I should get out while I still could. But the other screamed twice as loud that it made no difference what this man's hands looked like. He could have the arms of a monkey, or the legs of a goat, or the tail of a dragon, and it would still be wrong to leave him here.

    "Robo-limbs or not, I can't just leave you out here all alone like this. My conscience won't allow it." I said firmly, glaring at him.

    He hesitated, his eyebrows furrowing with what I thought was worry. His shoulders dropped and he shook his head slightly.

    "I..." He mumbled, "Really, you don't have to-"

"Will you shut up already?" I said, chuckling. I smiled and shook my head.

"But-"

"Just get on the horse."

"If-"

"You. Horse. Now." I pointed at Windy, scowling sarcastically.

The man opened his mouth to say something, decided it wasn't worth it, and sighed.

    "...Thank you." He said softly. The way he spoke with his head down made it seem more like an apology than an expression of his gratitude.

    "Come on," I said, "I wasn't kidding when I said we were running out of daylight." Finally, he sucked it up and followed me. "Y'know..." I said over my shoulder, "if you had just thanked me to begin with instead of questioning my motives, that whole thing would've gone a lot smoother."

"I suppose so..." He replied, still sounding like he was having a major guilt-trip. I glanced at him. His head was still down. I tsked and sighed.

Windy had barely moved, which I found peculiar. She had a tendency to wander, especially if there was anything edible within a hundred yards of her. I went to check her saddle blanket and all that jazz, but she moved away as I walked up. I looked to see where she was going, and found her nuzzling at the man's chest. That was even more surprising. Windy was sweet and mild mannered, but she was usually pretty shy. It took a while for her to get comfortable around strangers. Now, of course, because the stars were apparently aligned or something, she was acting all friendly and playful with this dude she had literally just met.

The man seemed a little unsure how to react. Windy whinnied and tried to lick his face, and he placed his hands on her head to stop her. A faint, faint smile tugged at his lips as he mumbled, "Whoa, there..." Windy continued her attempts to give him a nasty horse-kiss, but finally settled for the metal palm he placed on her muzzle. His smile grew a bit, and his eyes seemed softer than before. "Quite the friendly mare you have here." He said in a tone that actually sounded happy.

"Uhh, Yeah," I said with a confused smile on my face, "She's usually a bit more reserved than that, but hey..."

"What's her name?" He asked me patting the side of her head.

"Windy." I said,  watching the two interact.

"Windy... That's a wonderful name for a horse." He said more to Windy than to me.  As he stroked her mane, smiling softly, I again got the overwhelming feeling that this was the right thing to do. Never had I encountered a person so innately docile.

I walked over and swung myself into the saddle. Windy shifted and let out a soft snort. The man gave her one last pat on the head, then walked around to join me.

"Do you need any-" I started as the man lifted himself effortlessly into the saddle and sat down behind me. "Help." I finished aimlessly. "Ooooookay, nevermind. That works." I said, actually kind of glad I didn't have to drag him onto the horse. He blinked those big blue eyes at me, wearing that same, unreadable expression, and I sent him a smile, for lack of a better response.

    "Alright, Windy," I said, gently kicking her sides. "Lets go." She trotted forward, almost lazily. I was a little worried that the man might be a bit much for her to carry, especially given he was about half metal. However, she didn't seem to be straining much at all, and she wasn't going slow because of the load. She was just a lazy horse.

    I immediately started trying to figure out what on earth was going to tell my mother. Hey mom! I found this random dude out in the yard and-! ...and... and I don't even know his name.

    "Hey," I said, looking awkwardly over my shoulder, "I... just realized. I never asked your name."
   
    The man's expression changed ever so slightly. He looked away for a moment, casting his eyes out over the endless expanse of waving grass.

    "It's Cain." He said, reluctantly meeting my gaze again.   
   
    "Cain..." I echoed quietly. Something about the name struck me as odd, but at first, I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Cain... what was weird about that? Where had I heard it before? Some old story, biblical, I think? Yhea, yhea, Cain and Abel! Cain got all jealous over a sacrifice or something and... killed his brother. Oh. That's why the name bothered me. But ... I had seen people spell it K-A-I-N. Not that it really made a difference... It was just that the illogical side of me, the part that was bothered, felt like for some reason it did make a difference. If it was a K, then the coincidence was gone and everything was hunky-dory. If not...

    "Cain with a C, or Kain with a K?" I asked, still unable to control my curiosity. 

    "Cain with a C..." He replied after a moment, his voice laced lightly with guilt.
   
    I nodded slowly. The little voices didn't say anything, they just seemed to look at each other and shrug. I felt that this meant something, but I had no idea what it changed at the moment. Honestly, things couldn't get that much weirder, and this was sort of just icing on the wacko-cake.

    "Well," I said, not having any better ideas, "It's nice to meet you, Cain." I reached a hand across my body and held it out for him to shake. He leaned back a little, looked from the hand, to my face, then back again, and carefully accepted the gesture.
   
    "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss..." He said as I gave his large, metallic hand a firm, hopefully welcoming shake.

    "Leslie." I provided, "Leslie Gidman."