I lost track of the days as Red, Raven, and I trekked our way across the american southwest. We didn't talk much, and as we got into the desert, much of the scenery didn't seem to change either.
Raven, although he did not eat meat, was one hell of a hunter, and could find food and water in any condition it seemed. The man was in tuned to nature, I'll give him that.
On the night we finally rode into that small California town, Red seemed more eager than I'd ever seen him to head into a salon and down a few glasses of whiskey.
