|The Texas Ranger
Author: VivalaGloria101 PM
He was no real Texas ranger, but he played his part well.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Western/Angst - Words: 668 - Published: 10-24-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8638999
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Since I haven't written much new stuff, this is something I wrote for my creative writing class. We were supposed to write a backstory for one of the characters of True Grit. I picked La Boeuf, and it's basically just a short little scene. And wow, look at that! My very first K+ fanfic. Hope you like it, review and tell me how I did :)
"Adios!" La Boeuf kept the acidity from his tone quite well. It was unsuiting for a Texas ranger to throw a fit over a drunken codger like Rooster. He squeezed his ankles against the horse's sides and the animal gave a whinny of discomfort before smoothly transitioning into a canter.
"I cannot be shown up by some whisky guzzlin' bastard like Cogburn." La Boeuf muttered to himself, the façade he kept up in public continued to slip as his steed took him farther into the Indian territory, "But that lil' girl was right, I've already been left in the dust by Chaney."
He prompted the horse to go faster, relishing in the feel of the horse's rippling muscles and the sharpen wind on his face.
"Damn it!" He cursed as the wind blew his hat right off of his head, "Woah, there!" He shouted at his horse, who had to skid to a stop, snorting in annoyance at the sudden yank on its bridle.
La Boeuf had the horse backtrack at a light trot until he spotted his hat, discarded in a pile of leaves. He jumped off of the saddle, the sound of his spurs desolate in the vast wilderness.
The Texas ranger picked up his hat, but didn't put it on, instead he examined it with a sense of nostalgia. He clenched his fists and the brim crumpled in his grasp.
"It's all your fault, Rooster! Mattie's too! I coulda jus' kept on bein' a Texas ranger and forget about everythin' else!" He shouted into the empty wilderness, and then quieted, as if waiting for a response. He sighed, "Y'all had ta remin' me..." He kicked at the ground before collapsing into the pile of leaves, throwing the hat down beside him. His horse whinnied in confusion, but soon resorted to nibbling on a nearby bush.
Who was La Boeuf kidding? He was no real Texas ranger. By badge, maybe, but he'd never caught an outlaw before. He picked the wrong side of the war to be on. He could never even out shoot his brothers when he was younger, when they used to shoot at rattlers with their little .22's.
He never lived up to his siblings' legacies as Western heroes, much less the expectations of his father.
All he could do was put on a show, so that's what he did just then.
La Boeuf leaned back against a tree and took out his little pouch of tobacco, rolling a cigarette and then striking a match so that it illuminated his face in the fast-approaching dusk. With a loose smile, he breathed out the smoke and drawled, "Why, I'm a Texas ranger, all right, and I'll git Chaney before Rooster catches a whiff of his trail."
He looked up at the sky that was slowly darkening like a fresh bruise. He had his hat tipped just above his eyes and his spurs gave a subtle clink as he casually stretched one leg out in front of him. The smoke slipped through his lips and disappeared into the sky before he took another drag, the smoldering tip of the cigarette glowing a hot orange. He stayed like this long after night had fallen.
He couldn't be a real Texas ranger, but he could act like one. And he played his part well.
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