[ psl log for dentist ]

[throughhellfire]

As the months of snow come to a close on the mountain, the territory below starts to become visible through the mist. Somewhere below is Greenville, Mississippi and the answers that he searches for.

Django returns to camp with a couple of hares in hand. This winter has been good to Dr. Schultz and himself in terms of hunting, both the animal variety and the human. A whole gang of outlaws put away leaves each man a good share of funds. All money aside, there's little satisfaction to be had for him just yet. Though his plans have become clearer and more possible, they seem to be moving further and further away with each day that passes. As his crude manner of skinning, silently squat down by the fire, may suggest, his patience is long past being tried.

Comments

[dentist]

Schultz has always prided himself on being good at reading people to a certain extent, but it doesn't take a genius to see that Django has been getting restless. Given the terms that they'd agreed on, Schultz doesn't have it in him to be exactly apologetic, but he knows what the passage of time can feel like to a man with a clear agenda, so he promises himself not to dally. When the winter ends, they'll head straight to Mississippi. That means setting off a little early, while the last of the snow melts, to make it there in time for spring.

And it just so happens that the seasons have begun to change.

He's humming to himself as he first rummages through his pack and then sits down by the fire across from Django, beginning to polish his shoes in the small circle of warmth cast by the flames. Though he doesn't look up when he begins to speak, there's a half-smile audible in his voice.

"I think it might be time that we travel again — you're ready to do so, I assume?"

[throughhellfire]

For all their time spent together, there are many things about Schultz that Django still cannot understand. The first is how he is able to sound pleasant about nearly everything, while watching a white man shine his own shoes on top of a mountain comes in at a close second. Strange as it is, neither is off putting. He even looks up to steal a brief peek.

"Where we headed?" he remains heavily invested in his task, careful not to assume travel indicates the only place he can and has been thinking of these past few months. Though he's sure Schultz has honest intentions, there is some fear within him as to what answers Greenville will offer. Optimism is a trait that has long been wrung out of him.

[dentist]

"Mississippi," comes the answer, spoken with a certain relish. As much as Schultz has never particularly minded being the bearer of bad news, there's a little more edification to be had in delivering good. And that good news, in this case, has been long anticipated. Then, with a little more levity: "At first, at least, to see what the auction records have to say for themselves."

In the weeks leading up to the end of winter, Schultz can't deny that he, too, has considered the fact that what awaits them might not be what they'd like to find. This world, after all, has a habit of trumping each horror with something far worse. But this Siegfried has proven nothing if not determined — wherever Broomhilda is, he'll go, and Schultz has already agreed to see the journey through.

[throughhellfire]

Then it is time. There's a brief break in his focus, a hint of fluster underneath a normally cool exterior. "Yeah, I'm ready," his answer to the earlier question rides on a quicker cadence. He could pack everything up in a heartbeat and will if it means getting off this mountain soon.

Then, a thought.

"And if some of those Greenville folks don't like what we're looking for when we get there?"

Before any answer is given, Django eyes the pistol belt laid out near his feet. It's the easy solution, and the first to come to his mind. While undesirable at best, it would be the end of anyone bent on delaying his agenda if he had his way.