{open party post | who is the tall, dark stranger there?}

[tubemods]

The sun rises on another day in Devil's Creek, painting the night sky a burnt orange and the edges of clouds a pale yellow. Although not a large town by any stretch of the imagination, the early morning hours are the most quiet it will ever see. The night's chill still holds close to the dirt, keeping people inside, tucked away in their beds.

A perfect time for a return.

Three horses, three riders with one less rider than they left with come into town at quiet trots. Anyone awake this hour and foolish enough to look outside their window may recognize the silhouettes, but most are smart enough to leave it be. The riders don't linger long, going their separate ways in town. A long, low howl of wind whipping through the distant gorge signals the night's work is done.

In a few hours, the sleepy town awakens. It's a busy day today. Although the general goods store is always there and always open for business, shipments and other businesses from the city have arrived today for some trade and everyone could use a few supplies they won't get for another couple of months. By the time everyone has set up their carriages and stalls, the sun has climbed into the sky, warming the city's dusty town square as well as its streets and alleys.

There also seems to be the arrival of some more new faces this morning and to these outsiders, there seems to be something that's going without saying among the natives. It's the same thing they've thought of the other newcomers to their little town over the past couple of days.

Old Nibbles might just have a feast in its near future.

Comments

[instinct]

"Do they."

It's flat. Gives the impression that he thinks Idris is wrong. About pretty much everything.

"It's polite to ask permission first," he points out, not letting him go, like he still might clobber him. (Spoilers, he probably won't.)

[wontturntofoam]

"Well, I didn't think you were going to let me." Idris answers, sullenly, "In fact, I was quite sure you were going to come and hit me, so I thought I might as well get a good photograph before you did."

In other words, he took the photograph because you were so scary, Derek. It was... sort of your own fault?

"Don't you want to see it? I could develop it for you."

[instinct]

"Why would I want to see a photograph of myself?" Derek asks with a scowl and a roll of his eyes. But he gives Idris a little shove and lets go of his collar, letting him stumble back (or maybe go sprawling, he's not particularly fussy.)

[wontturntofoam]

Idris does stumble, but he catches himself in time to straighten up, and make a bee line for the camera. Derek hasn't said yes, but technically, he's asked a question instead of saying no, so Idris doesn't feel rejected.

"I don't see why you wouldn't. I want to see a photo of you, and I'm already looking at the real thing."

Now that his initial fear of being punched has dampened, Idris is left with a vast pool of useless adrenaline, pouring into excitement about what this photograph is going to look like. He strips the plate from the camera quickly, and withdraws a shallow metal container from amongst his gear, to begin the brief development process of tin-type photography.

"What's your name, by the way?"

He does not mention needing this information to print as a byline to what is almost definitely going to be a great and publishable photograph.