Stepping into the home where the late Marshal had once lived, Benjamin placed one of his cases down and removed his hat before looking around the space. The interior consisted of only two areas, a large space suitable for the dragons and a smaller room in the corner of the building which was far too tight for the creatures. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that there was no ceiling above them and instead could see the exposed beams that supported the roof. Judging by the fact that he could see small dots of light from the setting sun shining through the gaps in the timber shingles, he concluded that the roof wasn’t watertight but thankfully there didn’t appear to be any signs of rain.

"It's not much, but it's home. There is a bed in Jeb’s old room you can use," Kaaneth announced as he followed the man into the shared dwelling. With a small shift of his folded wing, he pointed towards one of the only original rooms still in the structure. "It can get pretty cold in the winter, but Kaarisa is good at keeping the fire going throughout the night," he nodded towards a large, cast-iron stove that had been installed in the center of the home.

"It's strange, seeing a building with no interior walls," Benjamin mused, placing his hat on a singular hook on the wall before picking up his case again. "Was it built that way?"

Kaaneth’s neck frill flapped against his neck as he shook his head. "No, Jeb moved into the place when he took over from the last Marshal, and it was while I was growing up that he began to have the walls removed," he stepped past the man, one of the pouches on his harness hanging low with the weight of a lump of meat wrapped in waxed paper. "Kaarisa should be home any moment if you want to get yourself settled. I'm sure she will have a million questions for you," he smirked and gestured to the late Marshal's room.

Nodding in agreement, Benjamin renewed his grip on his cases and made his way to the small bedroom. The room was sparse and had been cleared out after the late marshal had passed, leaving only a four-poster bed surrounded by a fine flyscreen that had been tied in a knot and pulled to one side, a writing table, and a duchess. The bed creaked under the weight of his cases as he placed them down on the dusty linen sheets, but the straw mattress felt firm enough as he pressed against the bedding with his hand.

"I cleared out his things or as much as I could," Kaaneth said, while lowering his head through the threshold, causing the man to jump. For a creature so large, his footsteps were almost silent on the timber floor. "It was good to get rid of his scent, not that it was bad… but… anyway, I see that you have found his bed. I’ll leave you to it," he spoke with a hint of sadness and was careful not to let his horns catch on the doorjamb as he extracted his head.

Benjamin nodded in acknowledgment and began the process of unpacking his cases. He hadn't brought much from his home, but he first extracted the few books and writing implements he had packed and placed them on the desk. While its drawers were in good enough order, the old timber was in desperate need of a new coat of varnish. He could see by the waxy crescents on the table where the old marshal had placed his candle and, as he ran his fingers over the surface, felt the varnish blisters start to come away. Benjamin wondered if this was yet another thing that the late Marshal had overlooked and made a mental note to find someone in town who could help restore the old table. As he set about laying his quilts and ink pots out as he liked them, his fingers brushed against a series of small scratches on the pine trim that framed the lip of the desk. Looking closer, he saw they were spaced a similar width to that of a wyrmling's paw and realized they were likely made by either Kaarisa or perhaps Kaaneth when he was smaller. He could almost picture the old man hunched over the desk, writing by candlelight, while a smaller version of Kaaneth stood on his hind legs and watched. As he went through the various drawers of the writing desk, he was relieved to find it well stocked with a collection of pens, a few quills, and inkpots. However, after removing the lid of an ink pot, he discovered its contents had long since dried out. Judging by the layout of the desk, it looked like the late Marshal had been left-handed and Benjamin began re-arranging the contents of the drawers to better suit his needs. However, when he extracted the swath of paper from one drawer, he noticed a collection of pages at the bottom of the pile that weren't blank. Curious, the man glanced towards the empty doorway before flipping the stack and inspecting what the late Marshal had written.

Benjamin's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the poorly formed words, and he began to worry about the late Marshal's mind. The pages were faded, but contained a collection of mostly misspelled words, all beginning with the same letter. Growing up, he had performed similar exercises while his tutors taught him his letters, but he found it strange that a man as old as the Jebediah would have spent time repeating a writing exercise that was so basic. He lifted the page and angled it to catch the light from the window as he studied the man's messy and uneven penmanship. One of his least favorite tutors had always harped on about being able to judge a man's character by his handwriting and, as Benjamin looked closer, he wondered if the late Marshal's hands were failing him in the end.

Flipping the page back over, he placed it at the bottom of the pile and placed the stack in another drawer, before continuing to unpack his cases. Benjamin started filling the drawers of the old, worn duchess until he arrived at the bottom one, which was missing its knob. Kneeling down, he used his fingertips to pull the sides of the drawer but quickly discovered that something inside was stopping it from opening. With a rattle and a jerk, he shook the contents until, finally, it slid open enough that he could reach inside, hold the contents down, and slide the drawer free.

A photograph of an older man looked up at him from inside the drawer, with a neutral expression and a dragon at his side. The man wore a marshal's badge on his suspenders and held himself proudly with his hat by his side, while Kaaneth sat beside him and mimicked his posture. The photograph wasn’t as sharp as the ones that Benjamin was used to, but as he looked at the old marshal’s long, thin beard which hung down his front, he could see flecks of gray hair showing through. Benjamin guessed that this photo was taken when the drake was in his fledgling years. His horns had been thinner than they were now, almost gangly and, as Benjamin looked closer, he spotted a small badge on the drake's harness.

Holding the framed photo carefully, he looked further into the drawer and extracted a small pouch full of what he at first assumed were fragments of broken porcelain. As he held one of the white pieces and turned it over, he quickly realized what he was looking at however and was surprised. He had never heard of anyone keeping the shell of their dragon's egg and wondered if the practice was considered normal among those who owned them. Turning it over, he could see the shell still held a slightly pearlescent quality, but was broken up by a mottling of small brown dots. Benjamin took a slow, measured breath and looked around the bedroom with a newfound understanding of the bond that the dragon had shared with the late marshal. Carefully, he placed the fragment back in the pouch and put it on top of the photo, before beginning to fill the empty drawer with the last of his effects. As he closed the drawer, he jumped as the front door loudly crashed open.

"There you are," announced Kaaneth cheerfully from the main room. Benjamin looked around the door frame to see what the commotion was and smiled slightly as he saw the small dragoness Kaarisa trot inside with an infectious grin. "Did you have fun today?"

“Yah! We went on an adventure! We went to the old windmill and then raced back on the train tracks, Timothy isn't very good at balancing and I won! And we I found a lizard on a rock, he had a stripe that went down his back, I put him in my pouch, but he must have gotten out because he wasn't there when I checked, then Timothy's parents wanted him home for a bath so I came home, but in the morning we are playing hide and hunt!” the yellow wyrmling rattled off before drawing breath again and spotting Benjamin in Jeb's old room. “What is he doing here?” she whispered to her father while looking at Benjamin. 

“He is going to be living with us for a while. Won't that be fun!” Kaaneth replied with a smile and looked at Benjamin. “He can tell you everything about living in the city while we have dinner.”

“You lived in the city?!” asked Kaarisa, her eyes widening in wonder, “What's it like—”

“Dinner first, then questions,” interrupted Kaaneth and flicked his tail to nudge his daughter. “And what do we do before dinner?”

“But I washed my paws when I was out—” Kaarisa protested, but could tell by her father's raised eyeridge that he wasn't going to believe her. “Fine,” the wyrmling pouted and seemed to deflate slightly.

Benjamin watched as she trudged over towards a bucket of water near the front door and sat on her haunches to wash her front paws of the dust and dirt that had collected between her digits from playing outside all day. Clearing his throat, he walked into the main living area of the home and placed the photo and pouch of egg fragments on the kitchenette’s counter for Kaaneth. “I found these, I think you will want them.”

While sitting on his haunches, the white drake craned his neck to look at the photo and gave a snort of amusement at the sight of his younger self. “Wow, I haven't seen that in years,” he mused and, after wiping his paws on a cloth, used a single digit to open the pouch. “And what is… Oh…” was all he could say as his breath hitched. With a swallow and a brief smile of thanks, he closed the pouch and looked at the new Marshal. “I've pulled off a steak if you want to cook it. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted, so let me know if it's too much. Kaarisa can you help Benjamin light the stove—”

“Light the stove! I can do that!” Kaarisa announced proudly and padded her way toward the middle of the room where the cast iron stove stood. Her claws clicked against the hardwood floor in a happy rhythm and Benjamin saw that she was leaving a trail of small, wet pawprints in her wake. The small dragoness turned the handle and pulled back the grill with her jaws, before sniffing the contents and wrinkling her snout in disappointment. Leaving the stove open, she trotted off to the wall of the residence where firewood and kindling were piled up. She hummed to herself as she selected a few choice pieces of wood and carried them back in her jaws while holding a paw full of scrunched-up old newspaper.

Benjamin watched in fascination as the dragoness expertly arranged the kindling and wood inside the stove over the old coals. While the dragoness lacked the scars that would indicate that her fire glands had been removed, he still wondered whether she would be able to. After countless years of the organs being surgically removed in a risky and often deadly operation; it was not uncommon for dragons to be born without the ability to breathe fire now. Given her size, he doubted she would be able to sustain a jet of flame, and was intrigued to see how the small dragoness would light the fire. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself walking further into the main living room, ignoring the smirk Kaaneth gave him. Satisfied with the small pyre she had created, the dragoness reared her head back and inhaled deeply. With a small undulation of her neck, as if cold shiver ran through her body, she closed her eyes and thrust her snout into the small stove. He could see two small glands in her throat released weak, thin sprinkles of liquids, which remained inert on the paper, until a small splotch wept into another and spontaneously ignited in a flash of oily, orange flame.

Once the paper had ignited, the dragoness quickly blew on the flame to help it catch, before removing her snout from the stove to watch it. Spotting the marshal watching, Kaarisa wiggled and puffed out her chest proudly.

Benjamin tilted his hat to keep the morning sun out of his eyes as he looked up at the roof of the general store and the cart that was perched atop it. Growing up, he had always been taught to rise before the sun; however, judging by the almost empty main street, the townsfolk didn't share the same discipline. “Alright, I think it's time that cart came down,” he said and looked to the white drake who sat next to him and was fidgeting with a strap on his harness.

“Well... I've tried asking it nicely, but it's a stubborn cart,” Kaaneth mused with a not-so-subtle grin, before shuffling his wings when the man glared at him. “What? I told you, I can't go up there. None of us can.”

“Kaaneth, please. They won't mind,” Benjamin said calmly. It was still early in the morning, and he didn't want to start the day with another argument with the dragon. “You could lift it, right? A big, strong drake like you could do it easily,” Benjamin added in an attempt at stroking the drake's pride.

“Probably... I mean, maybe, it looks pretty heavy...” the white drake replied while tilting his head in contemplation. “But it's not worth the risk. One scratch on that roof and I'll never hear the end of how I ‘ruined’ their roof,” he said and smiled when the man looked away from him. They both knew there was some truth in his excuse, and he leaned closer. “You know that if it ever leaks, it's going to be because of ‘that big white drake's careless talons and the like. It's just better if it stays there,” he said and gave a final shrug of his folded wings.

“So you're not gonna help at all?”

“I mean, I would love to... I just don't see how I can,” he added with a grin that was clearly more entertaining to him than the man. “You can ask the other dragons in town, but you will probably find that they will say the same thing.”

Taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, Benjamin tried to stay composed and looked around the front of the general store. Stacks of empty wooden crates, barrels, and rusted trinkets framed the corners of the building, and hanging from the rafters dangled coils of rope, as thick as his wrist. Looking at the lengths of rope and then up at the cart, Benjamin began to formulate a plan. “Okay. So, if you can get it down without going up there, you will?”

Sensing the man was trying to use his words against him, the drake avoided his gaze and looked up and down the main street. “I don't know if we should get it down, to be honest. It's kinda historic, like a statue. You wouldn't pull down a statue, would you?” Kaaneth asked, before yawning loudly when the man glared up at him. “I mean, it's been up there for so long now, it would be unfitting to pull it down.”

“Kaaneth, it's their cart, on their roof and they want it down.”

“Well, they can get it down then,” Kaaneth retorted. “Benny,” he added with a smirk, knowing that he was getting under the man's skin again. “After all, there are plenty of humans around that could climb the roof. Heck, even Josiah himself hasn't been in a hurry to get it down. What does the good book say? The Lord helps those that help themselves-”

“You go to church?” Benjamin asked. While it was not uncommon for a dragon to attend a congregation, the drake didn't seem like the type who would.

“Oh, you are not one of those that think we dragons are the work of the devil do you?” Kaaneth retorted with a smirk but when Benjamin shook his head, quickly swallowed and tried to sound genuine. “So, the way I see it, maybe the cart is a divine lesson from a higher being that—”

“You’re waffling,” Benjamin interrupted, adjusting his gunbelt. “Are you going to help, or just be difficult?”

“Are they mutually exclusive?” Kaaneth grinned. When the Marshal sighed and walked towards the general store, he quickly got to his feet and followed behind. “Besides, this isn't exactly marshal's business, is it?”

“It's a good thing to do,” Benjamin snapped over his shoulder. He tested an empty crate to determine its sturdiness before beginning to rearrange it under the corner of the roof where the eaves were the lowest.

“Sleeping on a roof is a good thing to do, but nooooo,” Kaaneth retorted and used a paw to nudge a crate toward Benjamin in a token effort to help.

“I can see why Margaret doesn't like you,” the Marshal replied, as he began making a stack that he could use to climb onto the sloped roof.

Kaaneth’s neck recoiled back into a tight ‘S’ as if he had been stung and his frill perked up to full height. “Wait, you think she doesn't like me?” he asked sarcastically but, when he saw the man smirk, he grinned playfully.

“Maybe getting her cart down will make her like you,” Benjamin said and placed a tall crate atop another, giving it a small shake to test its sturdiness. It rocked precariously, but the weight of the crates stopped it from toppling. Satisfied with his ramshackle creation, he began pulling the long coils of heavy rope out from the rafters.

“Come on… really. Margaret wouldn't like me even if I dumped a sack of gold onto her doorstep,” Kaaneth retorted with a scoff and a quick glance into the windows of the general store to see if he had been overheard. “She would probably say I stole it or something,” he added under his breath.

“Okay, fine. She probably won't bake you a cake just for returning her cart, but it will make dealing with her easier, knowing you were the one to help her,” Benjamin said, but could tell by the drake's raised eyeridge that he didn't believe him. Defeated, he looked up at the pitch of the roof, before slipping a thumb through the strap of his gunbelt and unbuckling it. “You stay down here then. But you are still helping,” he instructed, as he stepped up to the drake and slung the gunbelt over the dragon’s shoulders. He ignored the glare Kaaneth gave him as he made sure that the belt wouldn’t slip and turned back towards the shop. However, as he began to climb the stack of crates, he saw the drake pad his way over to the other side of the shop front and unceremoniously transfer the belt and pistol onto a heavy barrel. 

“Are you sure they are going to be happy with you climbing their—”

“Yes!” Benjamin retorted with a grunt as he pulled himself up onto the roof, keeping low to the wooden shingles. While he wasn't afraid of heights, the feeling of the roofing shifting slightly under his weight was unsettling. Gingerly and very slowly, he stood up and was relieved to feel his leather-soled boots find grip. While he still used one hand to balance himself, he began to slowly climb the steeply pitched roof.

“Don't do it, it's not worth it,” Kaaneth chuckled as he stepped back to watch the man climb. The sound of paws padding towards him made him glance over his shoulder and nod in greeting to Raahn and Rose who were making their way towards him from the saloon. The woman's hands were full as she carried a mug in one hand and a large wooden tankard in the other, both full of steaming hot, black coffee.

“What is our fine lawman doing?” Raahn asked gruffly while blinking tiredly. The older, brown drake was clearly not an early wyrm and opted to sit down lounging, to watch Benjamin slowly ascend. Once settled, he shuffled his burgundy wings and accepted the tankard of coffee with his worn paws, before sipping the scalding hot drink.

“Getting himself hurt,” Kaaneth replied flatly and lowered his head to sniff Rose's coffee, only for her to swat his questing snout away. Pouting dramatically, he nodded towards the Marshal, “A nickel says that he ends up in your infirmary today.”

“Oh no, I know better than to gamble with you,” Rose chuckled, “You will twist the deal through some technicality so that you win.”

Before the white drake could retort, Raahn snorted. “Alright, you're on. You owe me a nickel if he doesn't get hurt,” Raahn chimed in before adjusting his grip around his tankard and lifting it to take another sip.

“He isn't actually going to get the cart down, is he?” Rose asked while patting her hand down her pockets to find her cigarette case. When Kaaneth grunted in affirmation, she sighed, “I kind of liked it there.”

“That's what I said!” Raahn agreed and wrapped his tail tightly around himself, so he could continue to watch and not block anyone passing in the street.

A scampering of paws down the main street caused the trio to turn and see Kaarisa bounding towards them with wings extended in an imitation of flight. While she could glide and rise up on thermals at her age, the muscles that wrapped around her chest and connected to her wings were not yet developed enough to fly. “Daddy! I can't find Timothy.”

Kaaneth frowned and glanced between Benjamin and his daughter. “Daddy is a bit busy, hon. Are you sure he is awake?” he asked and lowered a wing to the ground to provide a shelter for the dragoness.

Diving between his forelegs and wing, the yellow 'ness turned around and looked up. “Yeah! We are playing a game, but now I don't know where he is! Can we fly and find him?” she asked, pulling a strap of her father's harness tight in preparation for riding on his shoulders.

“Oh, I see what is going on!” Kaaneth chuckled and looked down at her, “You are playing hide and hunt! He is hiding, and you want me to help find him.” He laughed when Kaarisa shrunk back with a guilty smile. “That's not very sporting of you. You need to find him yourself.”

“But that will take ages!” she whined, pouting when her father shook his head. After glancing towards Raahn and Rose for support, she realized they were all looking up at the Marshal who was now reaching the apex of the roof. “You said we couldn't go on roofs.”

Benjamin carefully stood up with one foot on the spine of the roof and was grateful that the building's construction was sound. Due to a dragon's love of basking in the sun, buildings were almost always designed to accommodate their weight. However, as structures fell into disrepair, it wasn't unheard of for them to cause the occasional collapse. While he caught his breath from the climb, Benjamin looked out across the town. The roof of the general store wasn't the tallest structure in Windslow, but it did provide a decent vantage point to see a new perspective of the town. A small church stood proudly to the northwest, and beyond the crucifix-peaked roof, he spotted a flight of dragons coming to town from a farm in the distance.

Focusing on the task at hand, he carefully walked closer to the cart and inspected the trailer. Despite its ramshackle condition from months of neglect, the wheels and axle appeared to be in working order. Uncoiling the rope from around his shoulders, he began to tie knots around each of the two shafts that would have once connected the cart to a dragon or horse’s harness and pulled them tight. As he gave them a tug to ensure they were secure, and as he looked down he could see that he was drawing a small audience. Once he was satisfied with the ropes, he looked down at the white drake. “Kaaneth, can I get you behind the store?” Benjamin shouted, holding up the two ends of the rope. He could see the white drake roll his eyes and mutter under his breath. “Thanks, partner!” Benjamin shouted with a small smile when the drake finally stood up and instructed his daughter to stay with Raahn. Taking his time, he spread each of his wings wide before folding them and walking forward with just his forelegs to stretch his body. “Whenever you're ready,” Benjamin scoffed, turning around once the drake began trundling between the buildings.

Kaaneth kept his wings close to his sides as he padded his way between the general store and the side of the barbershop. He could hear the marshal's footsteps on the roof above him and, when he arrived at the rear of the store, Benjamin was already waiting for him on the roof with the two ends of the rope in hand. “You want me to pull it down?” asked Kaaneth with a grin. “You should have just said so.”

“No… Not exactly,” Benjamin replied quickly, tying the two ends of the rope together before tossing the loop down. “I want you to stop it from falling. I'll push it off the front of the store, and you lower it to the ground with that rope,” he saw the drake's eyes light up, “And if you let it fall, I'll evict you from the Marshal's house. You hear me?” Benjamin threatened, smiling when the white drake’s neck frill flattened with a guilty look towards him.

“Killjoy,” Kaaneth mumbled before he picked up the loop of rope in his jaws and walked backward to take up the slack. The old, knotted rope tasted dirty, and his lips lifted in disgust, but he endured as Benjamin walked out of sight.

Benjamin focused on the flight of dragons approaching the town from the northwest. At first, he had thought they were just dragons coming from one of the distant farms, but now he frowned when he spotted that almost all of them had a rider between their shoulders. While it was common for multiple dragons to head to town on their owner's behalf, he found it strange that each would carry a human farmhand as well. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on the task at hand and slowly made his way to the cart while taking care not to slip on the peaked roof. Once close enough, he reached out and gripped the siding of the trailer, before leaning against it and giving it a push. After months of being parked in the rain without being greased, the timber axle groaned in protest. However, after a few shoves back and forth, it began to roll once more. “Alright! It's moving,” Benjamin called back over his shoulder and saw the ropes become taut. “Still have a few yards; I'll tell you when it's at the edge!” he added and continued to push the cart towards the end of the roof.

The shingles and rafters groaned under the cart's wheels as they rolled closer and closer toward the front of the building. “Almost there!” Benjamin shouted and felt the cart slow as Kaaneth began to apply resistance. With the spoked wheels on the edge of the roof, Benjamin pushed one last time and the whole thing suddenly lurched. The cart’s frame landing on the roof sent a shudder through Benjamin’s boots, but it didn’t fall, due to the ropes going taut. “All on you now!” he called back and quickly stepped over the rope to begin the climb down the building, as Kaaneth began to lower the cart.

Taking extra care not to slip on the shingles, he focused on where he was placing his feet. However, when he heard a scream from the main street, he looked around to see the source of the disturbance. The few townsfolk who had been watching the spectacle were now quickly running into the buildings for cover, including Raahn, who was carrying Kaarisa by the base of her neck. Looking for the source of the commotion, Benjamin's chest tightened and his stomach dropped. Skimming over the saloon roof, a flight of ten dragons was descending on the main street. All but one of the dragons carried riders, and all but one of the riders wore black bandanas over their faces, with silver fangs embroidered into the cloth.

Benjamin moved down the roof as fast as the grip of his leather soled boots would allow, while the gang dove down towards the empty main street. Dust filled the air as the group of dragons flared their massive wings and swooped low to the ground as they raced down the road. The air seemed to vibrate as one by one the dragons and their riders tore past Benjamin, before they pulled up and began to circle back over the town. Benjamin slipped off the roof and, while he was scrambling down the crates, the sounds of beating wings dominated the air as the flight of dragons touched down at a trot. Landing heavily on the ground, Benjamin quickly took cover behind the crates and shifted one so he could see better.

The powerful creatures folded their wings but kept them partially mantled to appear more imposing as they stalked the street. Leading the group was the only man without a bandana, dressed in worn, black riding leathers with silver buckles, and wearing a black gambler’s hat. His chest was adorned with the lost marshal's badge and Benjamin spotted his pocket watch. The time piece having fallen out of the bandit’s pocket and now hung limply from a button by its silver chain. His face looked warn and his mane of black hair was broken up by occasional flecks of grey. He appeared only a few years younger than Benjamin remembered his father and held himself with an air of calm, calculated control that gave the new Marshal pause.

While the members of the Silver Fangs all carried rifles, as well as the occasional shotgun, their leader was only armed with a pair of ornate pistols. A deep, guttural growl resonated from his dragon as it snarled while slowly turning its head to scan the windows of the buildings. Its body was the color of fresh ink, but unlike the dragons Benjamin was used to, the morning sun didn't cause the scales to shimmer and instead the light seemed to be consumed by the creature. The only exception to its pitch-black hide was a series of cracked, ivory spines that ran down from between the horns to its tail tip. A shiver ran down Benjamin's spine when he saw it look towards Rose’s infirmary, but was grateful that the creature just hissed in disgust.

Reaching to his hip, Benjamin grit his teeth and looked across to the other side of the store, to see his gunbelt resting on top of an old oak barrel. Swearing under his breath for entrusting his weapon to the dragon, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Cursing himself for finding himself unarmed yet again, he looked back at the group of intruders. Each of the men stayed in their dragon’s saddles, with guns at the read while the leader’s black dragon lowered itself to a crouch, as if preparing to pounce. The leader of the group swung a leg over his dragon’s back and, while gripping the horn of the well-oiled saddle, stepped out of his stirrups and down to the ground. Without any urgency, he retrieved a pipe from within his riding coat and began filling it with tobacco. The town was eerily silent except for the creak of taut ropes holding the cart above the front door of the general store and the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the street.

“Looks like the population is even lower than you thought,” growled the leader’s black dragon as it scanned the empty town with its yellow eyes. Its voice was feminine, but coarse and rough, and when it turned its head to inspect the general store, Benjamin ducked down further behind the crates. 

The group snickered at her remark, and the leader smiled as he shook his head while lighting his pipe with a match. “Oh, I'm sure there are plenty of folk here, cowering in the buildings like rats,” he said loud enough for his voice to carry down the empty main street, before inhaling through his pipe and letting out a thick plume of white smoke.

“We can flush them out, just say the word,” snarled another dragon from the group, a blue dragoness that Benjamin recognized from the train as the one that tore the baggage car apart.

“Not yet, Saafrinah. But if they don't cooperate, we will do it your way,” promised the man before turning his attention to the cart dangling from the roof. He watched with interest as it slowly inched further toward the ground and snorted in amusement at the oddity, before turning to his black dragoness. “Care to do the honors?”

“With pleasure,” she hissed with a wicked grin that revealed a mouth full of metallic silver teeth. Lifting her head and rising to full height, the black ‘ness puffed out her chest before addressing the townsfolk in a loud, commanding voice. “People of Windslow, it has come to our attention that there is a murderer amongst you,” she announced and glanced towards the blue dragoness in her posse. “A so-called Marshal took it upon himself to kill one of our men. Show yourself, or we will tear this place apart.”

Benjamin's heart pounded in his chest as he cowered behind the stack of crates. Peering out from his hiding place, he saw the blue dragoness from the train scan the general store as she paced. Her eyes flicked from window to window with a murderous glint as if hoping to see him inside. He forced a swallow past the lump in his dry throat and glanced longingly at his pistol, still out of reach. With the bandits in the street and a very angry dragon wanting revenge, he knew that there was no way he could reach the weapon without being gunned down or ripped in two. Adrenalin pumped through his veins as he racked his brain for a plan; he could try to run around the back of the store and reach the marshal's office for another weapon, but as he scanned the main street it seemed unlikely that he could do so unnoticed. Spotting the back of the cart protruding just below the roof line, he knew Kaaneth was still behind the store and considered making a dash down the lane to find him.

“You have five seconds to come out, or Windslow will be nothing more than a memory!” roared the black dragoness. She nodded to her fellow dragons and their riders, who quickly spread out down the main street with guns at the ready. “Five!” she bellowed, prowling slowly around her rider. Peeking between two crates, Benjamin could see her powerful muscles roll under her inky black hide and she appeared truly fearsome with her wings half raised. “Four!”

Her rider blew another plume of white smoke before taking the pipe from his mouth. “Come on out, Marshal. Don't be a coward. We don't want to harm these folks!” he shouted in a gruff voice.

“Two!” snarled the dragon, continuing to circle her rider despite his glare. Benjamin watched as she turned towards Rose’s establishment and drew her neck back further while coils of oily, black smoke rose from the corners of her maw. When the dragoness’ neck rocked from side to side, Benjamin remembered Kaarisa doing the same before she breathed fire and felt his stomach drop. While the yellow wyrmling could only produce a small stream of the volatile liquids, he had no doubt that a fully grown dragoness would be more than capable of setting the building ablaze. “One—”

“Wait!” called out Benjamin. His legs felt weak as he extracted himself from behind the tower of crates, half stumbling, half walking out into the open. When the dragoness snapped her head around to see him, he quickly held his trembling hands up to show that he was unarmed. “I'm the Marshal. There's no need for violence,” he added, catching sight of Rose's face come to the window of her infirmary, before ducking down again quickly. Scanning the street, he was grateful to see that everyone had managed to seek shelter, though it wouldn't offer much protection if the Silver Fangs tore through the town.

“Good boy. That wasn't difficult, was it?” praised the black dragoness, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Stepping around her rider, she loomed behind the black leather clad man, her intense yellow eyes burning into Benjamin like a hawk eyeing its prey.

“So, you're the one who killed one of my men,” growled their leader. Benjamin nodded, expecting the man to draw his pistol and shoot him, but was relieved when the man eyed him up and down instead and drew another long drag through his pipe. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” he added, while exhaling another plume of smoke that rolled out from under his hat's brim.

Benjamin slowly lowered his hands and glanced between the gang members. With the rest of the Silver Fangs posse aiming rifles at him, he knew that even if he had his pistol, he would likely only get off a single shot before being riddled with bullets. “He tried to kill me,” he finally said and noticed the man's lip twitch. “I was going to bring him in for attempted murder and robbery, but he fell from the train,” Benjamin added, moving further towards the middle of the street.

Their leader took another agonizingly slow drag from his pipe as he eyed the new Marshal with a stern glare. Only after the last of his exhale dissipated into the morning air did he nod slowly in understanding. “So, you’re taking over from ol’ Jebediah, are you?” he asked. When the blue dragoness from his posse hissed in frustration, the inky black dragoness beside him silenced her with nothing more than a stern look and a subtle flick of her tail.

Benjamin glanced between the two creatures and quickly understood the exchange. The blue dragoness was clearly impatient, wanting nothing more than to enact her revenge on Benjamin for killing her rider, but knew better than to go against her leader’s orders. Benjamin quickly realized that this gang was not a collection of independent hooligans but was a cohesive group following this man and his dragon's orders instead. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and quickly tried to think of a solution. If they were all so eager to follow him, it might be possible to disband the group by removing their leader.

“I am. I'm the Marshal now,” Benjamin stated firmly, glad that his voice didn't falter. “I don't believe we have been introduced,” he added, adjusting his stance to take a small half-step towards where his gun belt lay. Sweat formed on his brow and in the corner of his eye, he saw the cart continue to descend ever so slowly towards the ground.

His subtle movement wasn't missed by the older man, who kept his eyes fixed on the Marshal. “Folks around here call me Walter. But I doubt I have to introduce my men,” he said shortly, before adjusting his hat. At the gesture, the black dragoness stepped out from behind him and moved away as if inspecting the far side of the barbers.

“We met briefly,” Benjamin said, alternating between looking at the man and the dragoness, who began to circle back towards his flank and inadvertently herded him closer to his weapon. He heard a soft thud and creak from the cart as it touched down on the hard ground and tried to keep the conversation going to buy more time. “I see that you have my watch and badge,” he quickly added, praying that Kaaneth would be able to back him up.

“I do, yes,” Walter said smugly, holding his pipe in his mouth and keeping his eyes on Benjmain as he lifted the timepiece up by its chain. “It looked far too valuable to just melt down like the rest of the haul,” he added, opening the watch to hold it up at arm's length. His eyes scanned over the image and when they flicked back to the Marshal, Benjamin couldn’t help but feel like he was being measured against his father. “Son of a soldier, I take it. Messenger corps, an officer, judging by your father's attire.”

“That's right.”

“So not a fighter then,” Walter remarked, clicking the watch closed with a loud snap. He smirked as the Marshal's eyes followed the watch until it was tucked securely inside his pocket.

“It was the war. Everyone was a fighter,” Benjamin retorted with more bite in his voice than he intended. When the black dragoness took another slow step closer to him, he moved one step away from her and towards his gunbelt. In the corner of his eye, he saw the blue dragoness from the train clench her talons into the ground and glare at him with a seething anger in her eyes. Clearly, her patience was running dangerously thin, and he quickly continued. “But you didn't come all the way here to talk about my father, did you?”

Walter shook his head and took another deep drag of his pipe. "No, we didn't," he said, gesturing to the blue dragoness who looked ready to pounce. "Saafrinah here is one of my sharpest fangs. There ain't no dragon that can match her in the air, and she has torn apart many who have tried. Needless to say, she is an absolute force of nature, and you killed her rider, someone who was a friend to her. Now, my Fangs are not slaves, nor are they treated like property as others around these parts like to do, instead they are free to come and go as they please. I’m telling you this so that you understand the difficult position you have put Laarnah and me in. See, Saafrinah wanted to tear this place apart, beam by beam, shingle by shingle," he explained, nodding towards the blue dragoness, “but I don’t think we need to go through all that.”

Benjamin glanced towards the blue dragoness and could tell by the way she clawed the ground that she was still eager for any excuse to enact her revenge on him. "So, what happens now? You want to just kill me instead?" he asked and noticed the blue dragoness glance toward her leader with a glint of hope in her eyes.

Walter let the marshal's question hang in the air as he took another long drag from his pipe, before finally shaking his head. "No, an eye for an eye is just a path to make people blind," he said, sharing a glance with the blue dragoness who hissed a low, threatening hiss like a venomous snake about to strike. In that moment of distraction, Benjamin took another subtle step closer to his pistol. "You look like a reasonable man, Marshal, and we have agreed to make you a proposal. I believe that you want to live, and we want some supplies. So, while it pains me to put a price on the life of one of my fangs, I believe that we can come to an arrangement," he said, reaching into his breast pocket to retrieve a small, leather-bound diary. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the small book towards Benjamin and watched the Marshal's movements closely.

Benjamin cautiously stepped forward and retrieved the book, making sure he was closer to his pistol when he retreated. Opening the book, his eyes widened at the lengthy and detailed list of supplies, ranging from medicine and foodstuffs to alcohol, lanterns, nails, and tools. "This... is a lot."

"Consider it a flattery," Laarnah snarled with a deep growl resonating in her chest. The black dragoness stepped closer towards the Marshal, who in turn quickly took a step back. With another long stride, she came close enough that she could easily swipe him with a clawed paw if she so wanted to. Lowering her head to his level, her nostrils twitched as she briefly sampled his scent before her lips pulled back, revealing her silver fangs in a fierce snarl. "Think of it as the value of your life, or the lives in this godforsaken town," she explained, snapping her jaws in his face to emphasize her point.

Benjamin's eyes watered as he smelled the dragoness' rancid breath. Stumbling further backward, he felt his heel connect with the heavy barrel behind him. Looking around the main street, he saw the rest of the Silver Fangs watching him, guns still low across their saddles. Across the street, he saw Raahn using his store for shelter while holding Kaaneth's daughter in his paws. Seeing that all the fangs' attention was on Benjamin, the drake nodded towards the roof of the barbershop. "Well, then I thank you for valuing my life so... much," Benjamin said, pretending to adjust his hat as the dragoness curled her neck into a tight 'S' shape, subtly glancing up at the angled roof of the barbershop.

Keeping low to the roof of the barber shop, Kaaneth kept his claws retracted so they wouldn't make a sound against the timber shingles and stole a look over the peak of the roof. His heart hammered in his chest, as he saw his daughter so close to the action. Raahn kept his wings around the yellow dragoness to obscure her from the bandits, but he knew that the thin membrane would do nothing to stop a bullet if shots were fired. His amber eyes flicked over the scene before him, the large black dragoness was prowling just past the edge of the roof and he could see Benjamin inch closer towards his holstered gun. Kaanth's eyes widened in terror. “Don't do it,” he whispered under his breath and, when the man looked up, shook his head with a concerned look.

Benjamin clenched his jaws at the drake's cowardice and focused on the leader of the Silver Fangs. "I think this is a fair trade. It may take me a while to collect all of this—"

"Five days," Walter said flatly, before inhaling from his pipe, only to discover it had burnt itself out. "To the north, there is a bluff with three trees. Leave it all in a cart by noon come Tuesday, and your debt will be settled," he explained, retrieving his tobacco pouch from his jacket. "Should you decide to go back on our deal…" he let his words trail off and nodded towards the seething blue dragoness, who lifted her wings higher and hissed.

"Understood," Benjamin said, watching as the rest of the Silver Fang’s dragons and their riders began to spread out and give each other room to take off. His eyes darted between the gang members, with their dragons spreading their wings and turning around, all of the riders seemed momentarily busy. Seeing that Walter had his hands busy with his pipe, Benjamin knew he wouldn't get a better opportunity and reached blindly for the gun belt. His fingers fumbled around the iron band that wrapped the lip of the barrel and then brushed against the leather of his belt. Looking up at the barbers he saw panic in the white drake's eyes, but also how his muscles tensed to leap into action. Leaning subtly backward, he patted the gunbelt with his trembling hand to try and find the grip of his pistol. Keeping an eye on the group he saw Walter was still lighting his refilled pipe and knew that he would likely only get a few shots off before all hell broke loose. If he managed a good shot on Walter, there was a chance he could use the confusion to deal with the blue dragoness and then the black. While he would have preferred a high-caliber rifle to deal with a dragon, a well-placed shot to the head or chest had been known to drop one of the large, scaled creatures.

His fingers found the timber grip of the late Marshal's service pistol, but when he tried to extract it, he found it stuck on the small loop of leather, which wrapped around the hammer that he had tied to prevent it from accidentally coming loose. Growing more desperate, Benjamin threw caution to the wind and turned his back on Walter and the Fangs. Tightening his grip on the pistol and using his other hand to try and rip the holster away, he felt the loop of leather snap.

Kaaneth's claws dug into the timber shingles of the barbershop roof as he watched the new Marshal pull the pistol free. However, the man's actions did not go unnoticed by Walter, and, by the time Benjamin had turned around and pulled the hammer back on his pistol, the loud boom of a gunshot echoed across the town. Benjamin's gun flew from his hand, and he cried out in pain as his arm flailed back like a doll's. Kaaneth saw the entire gang tense at the sound and lift their rifles to their shoulders. Without hesitation, the pale drake bounded across the roof. Timber shingles became dislodged as his claws tore them free of the beams they were nailed to and his wings mantled to appear larger as he lunged from the roof.

Time seemed to slow for Benjamin as he watched the white drake aimed to travel over the top of the black dragoness, his pupils were tight slits and his wings were kept tight against his sides as he focused on the leader. Benjamin saw the surprise in the bandit leader’s eyes, the man had clearly known that the he had been inching towards his firearm, but had not expected Kaaneth to be lurking above them. The shadow of Kaaneth fell over Walter and the man tried in vain to bring his pistol around to fire at the drake. However, his dragoness was faster and her head snapped upwards to see the softer underside of the white dragon’s neck. Like a coiled spring, her neck extended and clamped her jaws shut around it. Using her weight to anchor herself, she pulled him off course and instead directed his momentum towards the hard ground. 

Benjamin could do nothing but watch as the drake roared in pain as he crashed heavily into the dusty street. Without missing a moment, the black dragoness was on him. Her powerful jaw muscles clamped down hard around his neck and her long, silver teeth found purchase between his scales, driving deep into his flesh. Panic gripped Benjamin as he watched the dragoness wrestle Kaaneth onto his back, so his softer belly was exposed and within reach of her sharp claws.

Ignoring the burn on his arm where he had been hit, he looked to see where his pistol had fallen and saw it only a few feet away. However, when he tried to take a step towards it, another shot rang out and a small cloud of dust rose in front of his feet. Spinning back to face the leader and his smoking pistol, he saw the entire gang with guns aimed at either himself or the dragons as they wrestled on the ground.

Kaaneth tried to ignore the dragoness' restraining bite on his neck and instead focused on getting his paws past her legs so he could claw at her underside, but she was already one step ahead of him. Her forelegs were like tree trunks as he batted feebly against her, adjusting her position she clenched harder on his neck and raked her claws over the inside of his joints. Growling in pain, he tried to block out the coppery scent of blood and her foul breath while getting a hind paw under her and kicking upwards with all his strength. His talons glanced off her scales and he yowled in agony when she reared her head up and slammed his head back into the ground. Stars filled his vision, but he twisted and thrashed under her to try and deliver another kick. Using his wings and tail, he tried to roll them over so that he was on top, but as he strained against her powerful body, it felt like he was trying to move a mountain. Kaaneth gasped for breath but when none came, fear began to creep into his mind. It was clear to him that this dragoness was comfortable with killing him in plain sight and his stomach dropped as a thought of what she would do to the town or his daughter. In the corner of his eye, he could see her lips curl up into a vicious smile as she clamped down harder on his throat to the point where he was unable to breathe. 

Using his tail, he shifted his hips and rolled under her, before kicking out with his powerful hind legs as hard as he could. This time a talon caught between her scales and he heard her hiss in pain, however, his small victory was short-lived, when she thrashed his neck back and forth with enough force that he thought his spine would snap. His world spun, his vision became blurry and, as the dragoness yanked his head up and slammed it into the ground once again, he was sure his horns would be broken. Blinding pain shot through his neck, and the growls of the dragoness became muffled by the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Hearing the panicked screams of his daughter cut through the fog that was settling in his mind, and he fought back as hard as he could. Fear and adrenaline pushed his body past its limits as he frantically lashed out at her, while she raked his chest open with her claws. The sharp, tearing pain of her claws rending through his chest and the driving agony of her teeth sinking deeper into his neck made him cry out in a strangled growl until his lungs burned. Unable to breathe, his vision began to darken, but he lashed out blindly with his free paws while hers continued to rake his chest and tore scales from his hide.

Kaaneth's breathless and gasping cries filled the air, while crimson blood marked the dragon's white hide. His paws trembled as they weakly swatted at her shoulders, every strike landing softer and softer until he was unable to lift them again. “I'm sorry, stop!” Benjamin shouted, holding up his hands as best he could with his injured arm and winced when Walter leveled his pistol at his head. “Call her off! Please!”

Seconds felt like hours as Walter let Laarnah continue thrashing the white drake by his neck, before he finally gave a shrill whistle. The black dragoness remained hunkered over Kaaneth with blood dripping from her jaws, after she released the limp drake's neck from her maw to look back at her rider. Despite the exertion, she didn't pant and remained poised above Kaaneth to deliver a final blow if permitted. The whimpered cries of a wyrmling filled the air and Raahn struggled to hold Kaarisa back from dashing out to help her prone father.

“Let me have him,” snarled the blue dragoness as she glared at Benjamin. “We tried your way. Now let me do it properly,” she added before flexing her claws and shuffling her wings in anticipation.

Walter's hand didn't waver as he held the gun towards Benjamin's head. “I came here not to cause more bloodshed!” he shouted loudly to both the blue dragoness and the Marshal, “But instead to resolve this peacefully!” His raised voice caused Saafrinah to gnash her teeth, but she took a step backward. Looking down the barrel of his pistol, he stared Benjamin in the eyes while he considered changing his deal. “I ain't one to be trifled with, boy. Get everything on the list, leave it on the bluff. But if anything is missing, or you try any funny business…” he scanned the town. “Then the lives of these folk will be on your head. You understand!?” he bellowed, and when the new Marshal nodded frantically, he adjusted his grip on his pistol. “You have three days! Or else,” he added and gave a nod to his dragoness.

"Runt," Laarnah scowled before she spat out a globule of blood and spit at Kaaneth, and stepped off of the motionless drake. Despite the few scratches he had given her, and the blood running down the inside of her foreleg, she walked with ease towards her rider and lowered herself down so he could mount up. Without shifting his aim, Walter gripped the horn of the saddle with one hand and slipped a boot into the stirrup before pulling himself into the saddle.

"Take four days. I beg you," Saafrinah snarled before huffing and mantling her wings. One by one the dragons began to take to the sky, dust swirled and the resulting wind rippled Benjamin's clothes as their wings beat the air into submission. The last to leave was Walter and, as his dragoness spread her wings, he gestured towards the prone white drake. "You did this, remember that," he snarled and patted the side of his dragon's neck. After a quick glance back to ensure her rider was secure, Laarnah hunched down briefly before, with a snarl, lunging into the sky and spreading her ebony wings.

Benjamin waited until they had cleared the saloon roof before dashing toward Kaaneth. "Rose! Help!" he called out as he knelt down next to the drake's neck. Kaaneth was breathing, albeit shallowly and, as Benjamin looked down his underside, he could see his ivory scales on his chest and belly were now caked with a gritty mixture of blood and dirt. His breath hitched as he noticed one of the drake's forelegs was at an unnatural angle, but he focused on the open wounds that dotted the drake's throat. Ripping off his waistcoat, he ignored the blood running down his arm and began to apply pressure to the wounds on the sides of the dragon’s neck. "Rose! Anyone!" he shouted out into the street. “Help me!”

"Kaarisa, No! Come back!" begged Raahn as the wyrmling escaped his grip and bounded over to her father. With tears streaming down her snout, the yellow 'ness scampered to her father's head and nuzzled him.

"Daddy!?" she cried and licked his snout, "Daddy, wake up!"