Morrow gulch.

Nothing here but dust and the leftovers of a promise the nearby silver mines could not keep.

These days, after the mines were abandoned, most of the people have long since left in the search of a better tomorrow and the town has become little more than a pitstop on the way to the next actual city.

Where there was once cheerful chatter of the women going about their daily business and the laughter of playing children, while the men toiled away in the mines, now only the wind howls its lonely tune as it tears at the houses and shacks left behind, when life itself began to trickle away from the land.

None would have thought that there was anything worth to be found left here, but the man who just disembarked from the carriage he came in begs to differ...he has high hopes of finding something here.

Something that cannot be found anywhere in the world...closure.

As the evening draws near, he approaches the local bar/inn, the busiest place in the entire town.

He takes notice of the worn-out sign hanging over the door called 'The headless chicken', chuckling lightly, however as he wants to go in, he needs to face a problem he's often had to deal with as of late.

Stairs...of course...it's only two steps to the terrace, but to one such as him whose legs have failed him, it could as well be a hundred.

Fortunately for him, there is kindness to be found in the unlikliest of places and one of the other patrons helps him scale the hurdle, but not without giving him a curious look, as if to ask, why one such as him would be in this god forsaken town in the first place, but dares not to ask.

After expressing his gratitude, the man enters the bar through the door the helpful patron holds for him, causing quite a few heads to turn in his direction and the music briefly stops playing.

"What, never saw a guy in a wheelchair before?! Get yourself a picture then!" he exclaims, making all heads return to their tables again, some in shame for having stared.

After looking around for a few seconds, he makes out a pair of robed characters sitting at a table in the corner, away from the partially already drunk other patrons of the bar, apparently having a conversation.

'Good...seems like that guy didn't lie to me after all,' the man thinks to himself and wheels over to the table.

Upon arriving, the two stop talking to each other and the woman with verdant eyes shining from beneath the hood asks politely with a voice that clearly implies that they'd rather be left alone, "Can we help you, Sir?"

"I hope so, yes," the man proclaims, before raising his voice, "Hey barkeep! Get a mug of beer for me over here, will ya?!"

"Coming right up!" the barkeeper's voice echoes over the slurry chatter of the room, fetches a mug and starts pouring a mug of beer from the barrel in his back, while the man returns his attention to his female table companions, who now both look at him both annoyed and irritated.

The green eyed woman rises to her feet and says, "Look pal, I was just trying to be polite, but we are not looking for company...or, with other words: Buzz off already!"

The man does not flinch at the towering woman, whose cloak can only leave one to guess what's hidden beneath.

Instead, he reaches for the pouch fastened firmly to his belt, pulls out a few coins and puts them on the table, saying, "I believe this will be more than enough to compensate you for the time I ask you to spend for me."

"...we are not that kind of women, y'know?" the second woman responds in turn, looking at the substantial amount of money but not touching it.

"Oh, I know. I did not ask for that kind of 'company' either. I just want to ask for some of your time...because, you see, I've heard word, that the two of you are experts in...let me put it this way, 'retrieving hard to get items'."

The woman sits back down, picks up one of the coins and says, "You've bought yourself ten minutes, so get to it."

"Certainly...in fact, I am looking for something very special..."

He pulls out a piece of paper, upon which a small pendant, resembling a fox head, is portrayed in great detail and just for a moment, the second woman seems to be surprised.

The green eyed woman raises an eyebrow and asks, "What is that?"

"It belongs to the one I am after...the Zeaphyr Fox."

"The Zeaphyr fox?"

"Yes. He is a phantom. A ghost. I've been hunting him for months now...and I almost had him cornered a number of times, but by little less than a miracle, he kept disappearing from my grasp...the last encounter eventually landed me in this wheelchair and now I am no longer capable of hunting the fox."

The bartender comes by, places the mug with beer on the table, takes the money from the man and disappears back to his counter, pretending to not notice the tension, but ready to step in, in case things should escalate.

"So...what would you us have us do then?"

"...that should be obvious. I want you to hunt the fox in my stead...and I want this pendant as proof that you caught him."

"...why? What did he do to you that you would want him dead?"

"Oh, I never said I wanted him dead...but maybe I should start from the beginning. So please, by your leave, let me tell you a story...the story of how I came to hunt the fox. The story of a foolish man, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."