[Dreameh and Rorah!]

The hot sun beat down on a stranger's neck as the young man whistled a shrill tune to himself, pulling his hat down a little further over his eyes to shield them from the blinding light. He rode next to his cattle, sitting atop his buckskin mare casually, almost lazily as the herd moved through the shallow ford towards dry land. He continued to whistle to himself, as his mare followed the herd into the water. As he made his way onto dry land, a small whine caught his attention. Looking back at the noise, his face was bathed in sunlight. The young man was in his mid-20s, the stubble that adorned his face made him appear far older than he was. His hat, something he rarely parted with, usually covered his rugged good looks. Brown-Blonde hair spilled down the back of his head in shaggy tangles, yet it was fairly well-kept, it wasn't a messy bush alike his father’s, or even like most of the men in town’s. Yet his face was forgettable, he had no noticeable features to speak of, and no scars that cut across his skin.

The commotion was being caused by a calf, who had fallen into the shallow water, and who couldn’t rise to his feet again. The man rode over to the small animal, looking down on it for a second, a smile appearing on his handsome face. “It looks I’m going to have to carry you.” He said aloud, and dismounting, he picked the calf up in his arms, and walked through the ford towards the land, reins looped over his arm, his mare following obediently and quietly behind. The water splashed around his knees, but he didn’t care, the sun would dry him off soon enough. As the water became increasingly shallower, he set the calf down on the dusty terrain, and gathered his reins up in his hands.

He had just raised his foot into the stirrup when a sharp metallic ring caught his attention. Looking up into the sun, he noticed five figures sitting atop horses surrounding him. He took his foot out of the stirrup and left the reins around the horse’s neck. The sound had been the distinct noise of a gun being readied, and the barrel of the revolver was now pointing squarely towards him.
“What’s the matter gentleman?” He asked up at the five, squinting in the sunlight. The larger man of the five spoke first, his tone rough and uninviting.
“Where’d you get these cattle, boy?”
The question took him by surprise, and he stayed silent for a while, before another menacing click forced him to answer.
"I bought 'em good and true from Josey back at Armadillo." He answered, frowning. "What does it matter to you?"
"Don't talk like that to me, kid!" He waved the gun ferociously. "Perhaps it would grieve you to know that Josey was found dead yesterday, his wife's brain's splattered all over the wall next to him and his kid hanging by his neck from a tree outside their house." As he finished his sentence, his voice had become low, until it was nothing more than a menacing whisper. The young man stood by his mount, speechless. The man spoke again. "You happen to know anything about that?" Three more guns were pointing at him now.
"I know nothing of that. It's bad news o'course, but I had nothing to do with that."
"His cattle were gone!" The man yelled, interrupting him. "He was robbed of all he was worth, and left to die!" The men had dismounted now, save for the leader, looking down at him with eyes that reminded him of a hawk's. The four walked towards him, spurs clinking as they walked. the young man was becoming more and more nervous with every step they took, and before long he was backing away from them.
"I-I know nothing. I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."
The man said no more, but simply nodded. At once, the four men sprung towards him, the first giving him a vicious right hook around the jaw. He stumbled back against his mare, who spooked, and bolted, leaving him lying amongst the dust and the dirt. Another man picked him up by his collar, punching him again and again, until his lips and face bled. They chucked him on the ground, one drawing his revolver, ready to shoot, but the leader, still mounted, raised a hand. "No." They turned to look at him. "We hang him." He said finally, with a hint of a smirk, and the gang laughed, a harsh, biting laugh that sliced the air like a knife. The four of them moved towards the young man, one holding the noose, and threw it around his neck, dragging him mercilessly towards an old tree that sat beside the ford. One of them strung the rope around the tree, another forced him onto a horse, his neck still hugged by the tight rope that was starting to cut into his skin. He had cuts all over his face, his bottom lip was sliced in two places, and he bore a large gash underneath his left eye. He didn't struggle as the company hooted and laughed, watching him sit atop the horse, helpless. One bound his hands behind his back, a tight knot that burned his flesh to match the pain of the midday sun on uncovered skin. Few thoughts rushed through his head as they pulled the rope tight around the branch of the tree, his breath was already short, and with the increasing tightness of the rope, he was already gasping for air. The leader drew his revolver, and pulled the trigger.

The echoing shot was immensely loud, and the horses spooked, the ones who were mounted were soon calmed, but the ones who weren't whinnied and neighed in fear, before galloping off as far as their legs could carry them. The horse that the man was sat on reared up a little in fear, before bolting, and the man dropped like a stone. The rope burned. His throat was constricted. Breath was short... And in a few moments it was all over. The gang hooted, seeing the man hanging from the tree was a beautiful sight for their eyes, before the leader kicked his horse, and still laughing, they rode away, leaving the body swaying from the tree.