He smiled, and brushed his fingers along Arthur's jaw, pleased that he got the insinuation.
Getting on the horse was no issue; his upper body strength was much more than it seemed and he'd gotten quite used to the posture for riding, but he looked a little lost as to what was next.
"I take it she would not appreciate me holding onto her mane...?"
Arthur smiled at the touch, though a bit sad that they’d have to cease such gestures while they were in and around town.
Once he was up, he had the medicine seller shift to sit properly and where to settle his legs. He then explained, yes, yanking the mane too hard could be uncomfortable but to hold onto it for now along with the makeshift bridle.
He then led the pair around, letting both horse and rider get used to the feeling and one another while still in about as much control as he could be. Steadily, the mare relaxed, realizing the being on her back was not going to hurt her and happily accepted treats from both men when things went right.
Eventually Arthur brought Buell over and they began a very slow walk side by side, a steady circle in the area.
“Not bad at all” he praised, watching the both of them.
While he was no natural at riding, he was able to hold on well enough. When Arthur returned with Buell, the mare seemed to calm a bit more walking and trotting along as the Medicine Seller tried to get his bearings.
The remark earned Arthur a softer smile as he got comfortable riding along side him rather than from behind.
"Thank you. I did spend a bit of time observing you when you suggested I ought to have my own steed."
“Got a long way to go, the both of you, but not a bad start at all.” He praised with a crooked grin, giving Todd’s shoulder a squeeze.
They retrieved their gear and Arthur steered them back on the road toward Valentine at a steady walk.
Once the mare and her new rider were comfortable, they all moved into a quicker but steady pace. The mare was still very wild and whenever they came across another rider or something near the road like a skunk, she’d balk and fight for control. But between the medicine seller and Arthur’s guidance, so far the medicine seller didn’t end up being bucked.
Getting her used to being ridden was going to be a process and he diligently followed Arthur's instructions (though the skunk that had spooked her had left him hanging on for dear life).
The ride into Valentine was otherwise uneventful, his horse following Buell's lead, though she remained on the twitchy side of things.
He was not a great rider, but he was a practiced trader and Valentine had a much bigger market for his pricier luxury goods. Incense, perfumes, fancy herbal soaps, and oils were traded or sold for supplies and coin. He wasn't too fussed about a saddle, but he had traded a handsome lacquer box of incense for a fine bridle.
"I am not sure what to call her yet," he admitted as they made their way through the city.
Valentine had hardly changed since Arthur last visited it some months ago, then again it was a livestock town and he doubted much of it would for a long time. But it was the better than Annesburg, despite smelling just as bad, though instead of coal burning, it was sheep.
They stopped first at the stables, Arthur recognized a couple of the men but they didn’t seem to recognize him, which he was grateful for. Though their attention was largely on Todd and his feisty new horse.
They stocked up on couple things and got the medicine seller some gear for his mare, who was-as predicted-rather jittery around folk. But oats and some kind words and pats and she settled down. Getting the bit in her mouth was the hard part though and took them quite awhile to coax her-with more oats and an apple-that all was okay. The saddle was easier and soon they were leading their horses out and through town.
At the medicine seller’s comment about not being good at naming things, Arthur chuckled, “So I noticed. Horses are a bit easier to name than people I think. Can be as simple as something like-“ he paused, looking at the mare and her dapple gray coloring, “Stormy. Or somethin’ more elaborate. Before Edelweiss I had a horse named Boadicea, name of a Welsh queen who fought against the Romans. Hosea helped me pick that one out. Fit her nice I think.”
jdljdslkflk sorry for the slowness - holidays have been absolute murder
He turned it over in his head, idly scratching the horse's velvety muzzle as they strolled through the town. He'd have to think on it for the time being. But she did have rather storm-like colouring.
"You are well-verse in Welsh folklore and history," he remarked as his horse snuffled around his voluminous sleeves in search of any hidden treats.
"Have you considered, perhaps, one day traveling there to see it for yourself? I have heard that corner of the world is very green."
Arthur chuckled lightly at that, “Ain’t that well versed, just know a couple things.” Largely thanks to Hosea and partly Dutch. “As for travelin’ overseas, ain’t sure. Last time I did we ended up in Guarma and in the middle of a fight that almost got one of us killed.” Javier had ended up okay but, he wasn’t in any hurry to leave the country again.
Most of Dutch’s plans in the end involved going to Tahiti. Living the life of mango farmers or something. Arthur wasn’t keen to push toward a goal of leaving the country. Would need a lot of money, and while he’d be better off in England or Ireland when it came to the language barrier, he’d stick out like a horse in a hotel.
No, no for now he was content staying here in the land he knew, still getting used to the fact he only had to look out for himself now. No gang to bring game or money back to, or trains to rob or such. Just him. And the medicine seller.
He remembered Arthur had mentioned the debacle that was Guarma and felt that familiar relief that he was now there to tell the tale. He was, at this point, growing rather suspicious of his feelings; surely such a thing should have faded by now that he was long since used to Arthur being alive and well.
A thought to examine more closely some other time, perhaps.
"I would say you know more than a couple of things. One might even venture so far as to say you know a few," he teased lightly as Arthur led them through the streets, stopping only occasionally to settle his skittish horse.
"Perhaps one day your own escapades will fall into legend, like your namesake's."
Arthur elbowed him with a grin at the light tease, leading them over to the general store to do their restocking.
“Legend? Christ I hope not.” He snorted “The lesser I’m known the better, otherwise if this whole bear thing makes me not age, gonna have a hard time not being noticed.” He said, hitching Buell on the post and leading the way inside the familiar shop.
Again, another face he recognized in the manager behind the counter, but another that didn’t recognize him. He wondered idly if he was a forgetful face, or being what he was had changed him physically enough to hide his identity. He wouldn’t push his luck by asking, especially since he got into a big fistfight first day in this town awhile back.
Arthur stocked up on the usual dried meats and cheeses, some glorious coffee-Hamlish hadn’t had a lot and Arthur had foolishly blown through what he did early in the winter-but apart from some beans, steered away from canned goods. The medicine seller had certainly refined his palate, and with his heightened sense of smell and taste, found most of the canned items to not be as pleasant anymore.
They also stocked up on fresh fruit and vegetables, and a few jars of jam. The fewer trips into town he made the better so might as well grab what they couldn’t make or forage themselves. The rest of his money went into getting some new clothes.
The Medicine Seller had been wary of canned goods ever since he'd first encountered them. Oh certainly, it was a good way of preserving food, but he'd also seen the factories they came from and their standards of cleanliness.
He had no qualms about dried foods though, and added two sacks of dried beans and rice, along with flour, cooking oil, vinegar, salt, molasses and spices to their stash of goods, contributing the last of his funds to their supplies.
There was more than enough to live off of for quite some time; certainly long enough for the Medicine Seller to replenish his diminished stock of medicine.
"Where shall we go?" he asked, once they had packed the goods away. They still had a good couple hours of daylight left, and while the visit to the city was a bit of a novelty, he doubted Arthur would want to push his luck.
They added the larger supplies to Buell as he was used to carrying loads and the new mare was still growing accustomed to the bit and saddle.
Arthur also splurged and got a bottle of rum and a bottle of whiskey. Nothing fancy, just a little something. He also eyed the leather bound journals, but they were pricey even if he hadn’t bought the liquor, and he passed them up. But God did he miss writing!
Normally he’d be okay with staying one night but as the new mare was unpredictable and they had a lot of supplies, it was best they left town. Mounting, they rode up to Emerald Ranch, the ride relatively short, the fresh air and breeze welcome after the stink of livestock. Arthur stopped them a bit away from the barn on the ranch, dismounted and had Todd remain with the horses, approaching a balding fellow working on a stagecoach.
They greeted relatively amicably, both having known one another and the man Seamus mentioned something about having not seen Arthur since after the lion incident. Arthur then procured a bundle of items he had no use of that he’d found around the cabin. Some clothes but little bits and bobs. Some haggling, money exchanged, as the sun went down and finally Arthur bid him good evening, returning to the medicine seller to try and find a spot to camp for the night.
He didn't miss that look Arthur spared the leather journals; pretty things but a little too pricey for what was left of their coin.
On the other hand, he did have a supply of paper and a fine sewing kit. Perhaps with a little work, he'd have a nice surprise for Arthur. If nothing else, it was something to do with his turn on watch.
While the other man bartered, the Medicine Seller led his horse to a nice, out of the way spot to graze. It was a nice, clear day, and he could get to work on his little side project while his companion was distracted. It was a long wait; the sun was low in the sky by the time Arthur returned and by that time the Medicine Seller had squared his things away.
"How does it feel? Your first day back in the world, that is." he asked as they rode away from the ranch, though as they passed the remnants of an abandoned and run down saloon, there was a peculiar rattling sound from inside his medicine box.
"Strange." he answered truthfully. "Feels like nothin' has changed. While it ain't been as long as it feels, figured somethin' would. Guess not. Glad no one's recognized me, apart from Seamus" he said, jabbing his thumb back toward the man he'd been bartering with.
At the noise, Arthur turned to look at the box, then the medicine seller. "Uhh, that mean what I think it means?"
The Medicine Seller paused, staring for a time at the decrepit old building, his horse pawing and huffing nervously. The air around the abandoned saloon was heavy, the malcontent of the place palpable.
"Mm. Something is lingering there. It would seem you are not the only one back from the dead this evening," he said slowly. "I will have to return and make inquiries. Without knowing its truths, I cannot sever it from this world."
Arthur stroked Buell's neck, the stallion jittery himself but the mare was even more so, new at being told to stay put instead of run from the weird and potentially dangerous.
"Easy boy." he coaxed before turning back to the medicine seller. "Want to camp nearby tonight and check it out or what?"
His horse tossed her mane and began pawing more aggressively, though seemed to settle as the Medicine Seller steered her away.
"Near enough to observe for now. But we should get the horses well away, or they will bolt."
His own horse couldn't wait to put some distance between her and the building. Twice she broke into a canter and the Medicine Seller struggled to get her back to a brisk, anxious trot. It was a good while before she settled, placated with treats and her evening meal while they set up camp. Though in addition to the tents and cooking fire, the Medicine Seller also put up several of those blank paper charms around the perimeter.
"You would not happen to know anything about that abandoned bar, would you?" he asked, opening the middle drawer of his box.
Arthur led them away from the ranch and to the tree line some distance away, the horses calmed once they were and began to set up camp. Pitching the tent-no longer shy about sharing one-he shook his head, "Not much. Shot to hell for some reason inside, never had time to look into it much more though. Owners and workers at the ranch ain't the sharin' type. Once saw a girl in the window of the house further down, inquired to someone about her and they just said to move on."
Tent and fire going, he saw to Buell, brushing him down, feeding him, then tying him to a tree with the mare.
"When it comes to a mononoke, it is rare those with knowledge of it will share anything," he mused as a set of scales shaped like a small white bird floated up from the drawer, perching atop his box. They were pretty things, white and trimmed with gold and jewels and they dip a brief bow to Arthur before standing upright. A pair of bells dropped from the base of the trays with a soft chime as he got to work getting supper prepared.
"Why?" he asked "I mean why would folk hide knowledge of it and why is it ominous?" he asked, lighting the campfire and beginning to gather more sticks in the immediate area.
If the medicine seller thought the mononoke being there was a problem, then they'd probably have to deal with it before moving on. This was part of the fox's job or calling afterall.
"Because when they know, they are usually complicit in its..."
He paused, absentmindedly gazing off into the distance as he mulled over the right word.
"...Creation. Such things do not come into being by accident, and you would be surprised how many people would sooner perish than let anyone know such secrets."
He filled a small pot about a quarter of the way with cooking oil and set it on a flat stone by the fire to heat up before getting to work chopping an onion into rings and a sweet potato into thin slices.
Arthur nodded in understanding. Obviously not many folk would confess to their crimes.
"How does a mononoke like that get created anyway?" he asked "Told me about the cannibal one but can a mononoke be created simply from an act of murder?"
He'd killed a lot of folk in his time, though he knew never for the thrill of it. Even Murfrees he didn't seek out to slaughter for fun despite the world probably being better off without them. Still, he wondered if he'd left a mononoke somewhere in his wake. Or Dutch had for that matter...
"Yes," he confirmed with a small nod. He didn't bother sugarcoating things for Arthur, suspecting that was where the other man's thoughts had gone.
"But the ways a mononoke comes into existence are as multifarious as there are ways for a person to experience regret. Not all are even dead, though that is more often the case."
He was quiet for a time, setting aside the chopped vegetables and mixed a batter from flour, egg, a bit of salt and the last of his rice wine. It wasn't as though he thought Arthur was stupid, but finding ways to plainly explain nearly nine centuries of dealing with mononoke without dangerously oversimplifying matters to a man who had known without a shadow of a doubt the supernatural existed for maybe half a year was proving to be a bit challenging. There was a lot of context and nuance that he simply had to brush aside.
"When an ayakashi comes into the world, it is drawn to a person's Truth and Regret, creating the mononoke's Form. They become trapped by and in that Regret; their very being defined by it to the core."
After gathering enough wood he set it aside and took a seat, watching the medicine seller cook, lighting himself a cigarette as he did so.
“So a person has to regret what they done for a Mononoke to be created?” He confirmed. He knew had had a lot to learn about the world of the supernatural, but he hoped he would from Todd. He doubted he’d ever be able to kill or banish or whatever the medicine seller did to them, but at least recognizing what they were and how they came about was worth knowing he figured.
If it was regret that created and bound-what did he call it? Ayakashi?-into a mononoke, then he doubted Micah despite all his murdering had left any in his wake. Bastard ratted the whole gang out to Pinkertons, regret was something Arthur very much doubted the snake had ever felt in his life about anything. Dutch though...did he regret killing that girl in Blackwater? Or even the old woman he’d choked to death on Guarma? How many Mononokes had he left behind him?
Then Arthur realized, was it any of his business? Did it matter? He couldn’t go around fixing everything his former mentor had broken in his path. The medicine seller seemed in no hurry to find mononokes, hell unless he’d snuck out of the cabin to deal with some, then they’d gone all winter without hunting one down. So did that mean he just dealt with them as he encountered them, like at the Emerald Ranch bar?
Christ, he really knew nothing about what this man did didn’t he?
"The Regret belongs to the mononoke," he explained, "but yes, it can be regret about what one has done. What one has not done. What was done to them. What they failed to escape. What desires have gone unfulfilled. It can be so many things, it is impossible to quantify in anything more specific than an ayakashi that has merged with human Regret."
As the oil heated over the fire, he lightly dusted the rings of onion and slices of sweet potato with flour.
"I suppose one can most easily consider it an affliction of the soul, but even that feels like an oversimplification."
Battering the veggies a few at a time, he dropped them into the bubbling cooking oil, letting them sizzle until they were a pale golden brown before scooping them out.
"...I can change the subject if you prefer. I know it is not the most pleasant topic."
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Getting on the horse was no issue; his upper body strength was much more than it seemed and he'd gotten quite used to the posture for riding, but he looked a little lost as to what was next.
"I take it she would not appreciate me holding onto her mane...?"
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Once he was up, he had the medicine seller shift to sit properly and where to settle his legs. He then explained, yes, yanking the mane too hard could be uncomfortable but to hold onto it for now along with the makeshift bridle.
He then led the pair around, letting both horse and rider get used to the feeling and one another while still in about as much control as he could be. Steadily, the mare relaxed, realizing the being on her back was not going to hurt her and happily accepted treats from both men when things went right.
Eventually Arthur brought Buell over and they began a very slow walk side by side, a steady circle in the area.
“Not bad at all” he praised, watching the both of them.
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The remark earned Arthur a softer smile as he got comfortable riding along side him rather than from behind.
"Thank you. I did spend a bit of time observing you when you suggested I ought to have my own steed."
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They retrieved their gear and Arthur steered them back on the road toward Valentine at a steady walk.
Once the mare and her new rider were comfortable, they all moved into a quicker but steady pace. The mare was still very wild and whenever they came across another rider or something near the road like a skunk, she’d balk and fight for control. But between the medicine seller and Arthur’s guidance, so far the medicine seller didn’t end up being bucked.
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The ride into Valentine was otherwise uneventful, his horse following Buell's lead, though she remained on the twitchy side of things.
He was not a great rider, but he was a practiced trader and Valentine had a much bigger market for his pricier luxury goods. Incense, perfumes, fancy herbal soaps, and oils were traded or sold for supplies and coin. He wasn't too fussed about a saddle, but he had traded a handsome lacquer box of incense for a fine bridle.
"I am not sure what to call her yet," he admitted as they made their way through the city.
"I was never any good at names."
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They stopped first at the stables, Arthur recognized a couple of the men but they didn’t seem to recognize him, which he was grateful for. Though their attention was largely on Todd and his feisty new horse.
They stocked up on couple things and got the medicine seller some gear for his mare, who was-as predicted-rather jittery around folk. But oats and some kind words and pats and she settled down. Getting the bit in her mouth was the hard part though and took them quite awhile to coax her-with more oats and an apple-that all was okay. The saddle was easier and soon they were leading their horses out and through town.
At the medicine seller’s comment about not being good at naming things, Arthur chuckled, “So I noticed. Horses are a bit easier to name than people I think. Can be as simple as something like-“ he paused, looking at the mare and her dapple gray coloring, “Stormy. Or somethin’ more elaborate. Before Edelweiss I had a horse named Boadicea, name of a Welsh queen who fought against the Romans. Hosea helped me pick that one out. Fit her nice I think.”
jdljdslkflk sorry for the slowness - holidays have been absolute murder
He turned it over in his head, idly scratching the horse's velvety muzzle as they strolled through the town. He'd have to think on it for the time being. But she did have rather storm-like colouring.
"You are well-verse in Welsh folklore and history," he remarked as his horse snuffled around his voluminous sleeves in search of any hidden treats.
"Have you considered, perhaps, one day traveling there to see it for yourself? I have heard that corner of the world is very green."
Is all good!
Most of Dutch’s plans in the end involved going to Tahiti. Living the life of mango farmers or something. Arthur wasn’t keen to push toward a goal of leaving the country. Would need a lot of money, and while he’d be better off in England or Ireland when it came to the language barrier, he’d stick out like a horse in a hotel.
No, no for now he was content staying here in the land he knew, still getting used to the fact he only had to look out for himself now. No gang to bring game or money back to, or trains to rob or such. Just him. And the medicine seller.
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A thought to examine more closely some other time, perhaps.
"I would say you know more than a couple of things. One might even venture so far as to say you know a few," he teased lightly as Arthur led them through the streets, stopping only occasionally to settle his skittish horse.
"Perhaps one day your own escapades will fall into legend, like your namesake's."
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“Legend? Christ I hope not.” He snorted “The lesser I’m known the better, otherwise if this whole bear thing makes me not age, gonna have a hard time not being noticed.” He said, hitching Buell on the post and leading the way inside the familiar shop.
Again, another face he recognized in the manager behind the counter, but another that didn’t recognize him. He wondered idly if he was a forgetful face, or being what he was had changed him physically enough to hide his identity. He wouldn’t push his luck by asking, especially since he got into a big fistfight first day in this town awhile back.
Arthur stocked up on the usual dried meats and cheeses, some glorious coffee-Hamlish hadn’t had a lot and Arthur had foolishly blown through what he did early in the winter-but apart from some beans, steered away from canned goods. The medicine seller had certainly refined his palate, and with his heightened sense of smell and taste, found most of the canned items to not be as pleasant anymore.
They also stocked up on fresh fruit and vegetables, and a few jars of jam. The fewer trips into town he made the better so might as well grab what they couldn’t make or forage themselves. The rest of his money went into getting some new clothes.
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He had no qualms about dried foods though, and added two sacks of dried beans and rice, along with flour, cooking oil, vinegar, salt, molasses and spices to their stash of goods, contributing the last of his funds to their supplies.
There was more than enough to live off of for quite some time; certainly long enough for the Medicine Seller to replenish his diminished stock of medicine.
"Where shall we go?" he asked, once they had packed the goods away. They still had a good couple hours of daylight left, and while the visit to the city was a bit of a novelty, he doubted Arthur would want to push his luck.
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Arthur also splurged and got a bottle of rum and a bottle of whiskey. Nothing fancy, just a little something. He also eyed the leather bound journals, but they were pricey even if he hadn’t bought the liquor, and he passed them up. But God did he miss writing!
Normally he’d be okay with staying one night but as the new mare was unpredictable and they had a lot of supplies, it was best they left town. Mounting, they rode up to Emerald Ranch, the ride relatively short, the fresh air and breeze welcome after the stink of livestock. Arthur stopped them a bit away from the barn on the ranch, dismounted and had Todd remain with the horses, approaching a balding fellow working on a stagecoach.
They greeted relatively amicably, both having known one another and the man Seamus mentioned something about having not seen Arthur since after the lion incident. Arthur then procured a bundle of items he had no use of that he’d found around the cabin. Some clothes but little bits and bobs. Some haggling, money exchanged, as the sun went down and finally Arthur bid him good evening, returning to the medicine seller to try and find a spot to camp for the night.
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On the other hand, he did have a supply of paper and a fine sewing kit. Perhaps with a little work, he'd have a nice surprise for Arthur. If nothing else, it was something to do with his turn on watch.
While the other man bartered, the Medicine Seller led his horse to a nice, out of the way spot to graze. It was a nice, clear day, and he could get to work on his little side project while his companion was distracted. It was a long wait; the sun was low in the sky by the time Arthur returned and by that time the Medicine Seller had squared his things away.
"How does it feel? Your first day back in the world, that is." he asked as they rode away from the ranch, though as they passed the remnants of an abandoned and run down saloon, there was a peculiar rattling sound from inside his medicine box.
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At the noise, Arthur turned to look at the box, then the medicine seller. "Uhh, that mean what I think it means?"
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"Mm. Something is lingering there. It would seem you are not the only one back from the dead this evening," he said slowly. "I will have to return and make inquiries. Without knowing its truths, I cannot sever it from this world."
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"Easy boy." he coaxed before turning back to the medicine seller. "Want to camp nearby tonight and check it out or what?"
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"Near enough to observe for now. But we should get the horses well away, or they will bolt."
His own horse couldn't wait to put some distance between her and the building. Twice she broke into a canter and the Medicine Seller struggled to get her back to a brisk, anxious trot. It was a good while before she settled, placated with treats and her evening meal while they set up camp. Though in addition to the tents and cooking fire, the Medicine Seller also put up several of those blank paper charms around the perimeter.
"You would not happen to know anything about that abandoned bar, would you?" he asked, opening the middle drawer of his box.
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Tent and fire going, he saw to Buell, brushing him down, feeding him, then tying him to a tree with the mare.
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"It does sound rather ominous, however."
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If the medicine seller thought the mononoke being there was a problem, then they'd probably have to deal with it before moving on. This was part of the fox's job or calling afterall.
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He paused, absentmindedly gazing off into the distance as he mulled over the right word.
"...Creation. Such things do not come into being by accident, and you would be surprised how many people would sooner perish than let anyone know such secrets."
He filled a small pot about a quarter of the way with cooking oil and set it on a flat stone by the fire to heat up before getting to work chopping an onion into rings and a sweet potato into thin slices.
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"How does a mononoke like that get created anyway?" he asked "Told me about the cannibal one but can a mononoke be created simply from an act of murder?"
He'd killed a lot of folk in his time, though he knew never for the thrill of it. Even Murfrees he didn't seek out to slaughter for fun despite the world probably being better off without them. Still, he wondered if he'd left a mononoke somewhere in his wake. Or Dutch had for that matter...
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"But the ways a mononoke comes into existence are as multifarious as there are ways for a person to experience regret. Not all are even dead, though that is more often the case."
He was quiet for a time, setting aside the chopped vegetables and mixed a batter from flour, egg, a bit of salt and the last of his rice wine. It wasn't as though he thought Arthur was stupid, but finding ways to plainly explain nearly nine centuries of dealing with mononoke without dangerously oversimplifying matters to a man who had known without a shadow of a doubt the supernatural existed for maybe half a year was proving to be a bit challenging. There was a lot of context and nuance that he simply had to brush aside.
"When an ayakashi comes into the world, it is drawn to a person's Truth and Regret, creating the mononoke's Form. They become trapped by and in that Regret; their very being defined by it to the core."
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“So a person has to regret what they done for a Mononoke to be created?” He confirmed. He knew had had a lot to learn about the world of the supernatural, but he hoped he would from Todd. He doubted he’d ever be able to kill or banish or whatever the medicine seller did to them, but at least recognizing what they were and how they came about was worth knowing he figured.
If it was regret that created and bound-what did he call it? Ayakashi?-into a mononoke, then he doubted Micah despite all his murdering had left any in his wake. Bastard ratted the whole gang out to Pinkertons, regret was something Arthur very much doubted the snake had ever felt in his life about anything. Dutch though...did he regret killing that girl in Blackwater? Or even the old woman he’d choked to death on Guarma? How many Mononokes had he left behind him?
Then Arthur realized, was it any of his business? Did it matter? He couldn’t go around fixing everything his former mentor had broken in his path. The medicine seller seemed in no hurry to find mononokes, hell unless he’d snuck out of the cabin to deal with some, then they’d gone all winter without hunting one down. So did that mean he just dealt with them as he encountered them, like at the Emerald Ranch bar?
Christ, he really knew nothing about what this man did didn’t he?
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As the oil heated over the fire, he lightly dusted the rings of onion and slices of sweet potato with flour.
"I suppose one can most easily consider it an affliction of the soul, but even that feels like an oversimplification."
Battering the veggies a few at a time, he dropped them into the bubbling cooking oil, letting them sizzle until they were a pale golden brown before scooping them out.
"...I can change the subject if you prefer. I know it is not the most pleasant topic."
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