The gunslinger hadn't spoken once since we approached him. Simply followed me back through the woods to where Jaron waited. His reaction was underwhelming when he took in my dragon's size. A single whistle as he looked up and down Jaron's massive, deformed body. But not a word.

Jaron, on the other hand, took one look at the man beside me and roared. The trees around us shook and several birds flew out over the treetops in fear. In the best of times, the dragon was ill-tempered. I wasn't sure what he'd make of the unusual stranger with me, but I didn't have much choice. We couldn't survive much longer on the run, and my father's hunters and spellcasters were sure to pick up our trail if we just kept circling the Northern Woods. So, I used a magic sleeping spell to calm Jaron down.

I turned back to the man as he settled beside the fire. His hair was longer than a member of the court would wear, and far dirtier. Yet, he moved with the grace of a magician. His limbs were long and lean and the weapons in his holster were made of the bones of a long extinct animal that roamed our lands years before. His hat pushed back a little when he sat, allowing me a glimpse of his eyes, and I briefly saw something flash there. It was as if he meant to say something, and then it was gone.

I settled onto the moss-covered log across from where and sat, and began to explain the story. The King, the Dragon Council, the death order, everything, well, not quite everything. Still he sat quiet. Jaron's snoring was the only sound other than my own voice to fill in the space around our fire.My anger rose in response to his stillness. 

"Well?" I stood up and stomped over to his side of the fire, and, yet he still didn't say a thing. "Dammit, Gunslinger! Will you help us or not?" 

"Help you do what?" he asked. 

"What do you mean what? I just explained to you that we're being hunted by every hunter and magical henchman in the royal court. Will you help us fight for our lives?"

"Why? You haven't told me what you're really fighting for."

"I told you I'm trying to protect him." I gestured back toward Jaron's bent and broken form. "Look at him. Do you think it's justice that they order him killed because he's different?" My voice was louder than I wanted, but I needed him to hear me. 

"You don't care about him being different, my lady. And if that's all you mean to tell me, then I'm leaving." He pushed off the ground and began walking away in one fluid gesture. The guns swinging at his side.

"Who do you think...? What kind of gunslinger walks away from a fight? Wait! Get back here." He kept walking away, moving further and further away from our clearing. "Gunslinger, wait... I, uh, need your help. There is more to this tale. Please come listen."