saw death on a sunny snow

[Vheissu]

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INCHARACTER       Vheissu was indeed a hermit, a wandering star—self-inflicted, too, though perhaps he did not realize this—but he was no villain. He considered himself one, however. The lonesome wayfarer with fur that matched the blood he had shed was the way he often thought of himself. Despite his pessimistic view, there was little darkness in his soul and even less in his heart. Acting the villain and believing yourself to be the villain did not always mean you were one. Vheissu sadly did not believe this, and so considered himself the worst kind of evil.       Thankfully the chocolate woman’s thoughts were hidden from the hunter, so a bought of self-loathing was avoided for the present. Instead, at her prompting, Vheissu’s thoughts were turned toward Phoenix Valley. She knew the place, evidently, which was good. He could ask her a few questions, which he was sure would please her curious nature. When she asked if he intended to join, a short hollow laugh escaped his scarred mouth, and his frown lessened. The thought was genuinely humorous to the vigilante, who as we have discovered, did not even consider himself worth the air he breathed, let alone to be a part of something bigger than himself. He let out another low chuckle before answering.       “No ma’am,” came the reply. “I’m lookin’ for somebody… a friend of mine.” The final utterance was added with barely concealed avoidance, though that was his intention. No doubt it would spark her interest and perhaps even make her more willing to divulge information. “You might even have met him,” the ginger man ventured, offering a reassuring look that lingered longer than his previous had, dark mahogany eyes meeting her bright ones. He could be charming when he wanted to.       Having such a unique appearance privately bothered the coydog. Most bounty hunters were scarred, grizzled mutts or sleek coyotes who had about as much diversity as a piece of hay in a haystack. It was part of the trade. To blend in, to be able to pursue your quarry without drawing too much attention, was the ultimate disguise. But no, Vheissu’s fur was bright and his markings were unlike coyote or wolf, and while he could remain anonymous in cities and highly varied society, he was a walking wonder in remote country. Such as his current location.       The woman’s second question amused him as well, though he did not express it audibly. Instead his marred lips twisted skyward slightly, and one eyebrow quirked. “Sometimes I sleep,” he answered cheekily.

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