His quarry was out there somewhere. After several years and hundreds of miles later, Achille felt no closer since he had departed New York. Such time however was irrelevant to a vampire. In his long travels, Achille had immersed himself properly in the wild western frontier. From the odd encounters with strange beings and several notable side hunts, Achille had taken a liking to this uncivilized part of the world. Such a curious thing time was... how time could erode strength from the mightiest of man and beast, a weakness he could not fathom nor share. Unfortunately the prey was not human. The target was very much like him with the gift of a head start. The trails led all over, the hunted knew who pursued him and was wise not to leave details on his various places of stay. Still even as Achille contemplated his hunt, surely his quarry would fold sooner or late... to be hunted across a country must have been an uneasy feeling. 

It was a feeling however that Achille was now experiencing. In his journey through Kansas, Achille paused at the smell of blood. Blood spilled was a regular thing for him to notice but it was that of a human and from his location, he wasn't near a particular place where people resided... what was a human doing out here this late at night? Against his better judgement, Achille rode through the high grass towards the corpse.

Arriving quickly, Achille found the body mangled as if some sort of wild animal had ripped the body apart. Yet the wounds inflicted were too brutal to be done by an animal such as a wolf... it had to have been done by something larger and more ferocious. It was here in this moment of inattentiveness that Achille suddenly felt the presence of several pairs of eyes on him. Brutus, the vampire's horse also detected the foreign presences and began to aggressively snort and trot in place, ready to run or kick. It was only through it's loyalty to it's rider did the horse not run off. Instinctively Achille reached for one of his revolvers, his body poised to spring into action but a strong voice called out to him.

"We know who you are and what you are. You are not welcome here." The voice was deep but the accent was recognizable... one of the country's natives. He heard these people speak before. Surely he was not on a reservation? Either way it did not matter, not now.

"I'm passing through, you have my word." The vampire replied. The tall grass made it difficult to properly access the situation through sight and the smell of the dead human body distracted his other super natural smell. If these were mere mortals, Achille wouldn't have been opposed to fighting his way out but the realization that he was caught in a trap by the natives was an uneasy feeling.

"You will ride far from here. You will not rest even in daylight. This is your only warning." And just like that the voice faded. Again Achille tried to guess the proper number through sound but they moved quietly and disguised their movements well... they were true hunters in their element. Forced to concede this situation, Achille mounted his horse and continued west...

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It was now daylight and the sun was bearing down on him. Achille rarely travelled during the day, it was when he was weakest to be exposed like this. Despite his strong frame, Achille felt tired and weak but took care not to show it in case he was still being pursued by those he had encountered earlier. 

Riding into the town of Longwater, Achille would have been quite a peculiar sight. Dressed in all black, ornate weapons visible, his face hidden by a bandana, it would have been easy to tell what type of activities he dabbled in. Yet it seemed the attention was elsewhere as a crowd was gathering right by the sheriff's office. In need of a place to stay as he calculated his ongoing hunt, Achille rode towards the crowd to listen in on the conversation. If he was going to be here for awhile might as well introduce himself and get a proper feel for the town's folk.