I thought I might try my hand at some interactive fiction as long as I am here. I like writing, and it will be interesting to see where you take this story, should you decide to play along. Write what you will, and see where my beginning comes to end.
The rain was cold, and sharp. Mist and drops fell hastily from the brim of his hat. It had been a long night, and the mud was deepening, the air cooling, and no end was yet in sight.
He had been on the trail for longer than he could remember. "On the trail", they say. The phrase meant nothing to him, and trail was as foreign a word as his feet had stumbled across in years. Once, there had been towns, people. Women. There had been life before the chase, but it all seemed pointless to him now. As the sloppy gravel and mud crunched beneath his boots, he could smell the energy in the air as the brunt of a storm filled the night sky across the valley. He liked it this way, despite the aches that came with rain these days. The water came in torrents, as it was apt to do in this country, came and washed down the hills, scrubbing the land of it's dusty heat. The heavy sky swelled with cloud, and it's depths were dimly illuminated by lightning.
He was a fellow who, without hope, had turned again to the old ways, shunned the world of man for what it had done to him. Greed was a terrible thing in those days, and there was plenty of it, and as he now understood, pennance was eternal.
Another night of quiet, then, until he reached his destination. A small mining town, or at least it had been there in the past. He detested the thought, but they had pushed him, lately, hadn't they? Years of solitude were interrupted by the call of a wanted man found still alive. What he needed now was a horse.
What he wanted, however, was a gun. It would give him something to spend the money on anyway. It'd be a shame to die without having spent any of it. He laughed.