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LORE | The Weatheringtons


Level 38
The LORE of the Weatherington Family...

"When I saddle the pale horse, to take my last ride,
To the home ranch, over the Great Divide,
Will I find the trail blazed all the way,
A place to camp, at the close of day?"



A new bundle of joy is brought into this world, the autumn air is mild, and the cold winds lapped against the hospital window.
From within, a radio played. " Today we're going to see mild weathers of forty-six point four at the lowest! Winter is fast approaching so make sure to get those old clothes out of the storage! " It spoke from the far corner of the hospital room, amongst the cries of a new baby boy. Born amidst the Cold War to his mother and father in the room to a smooth southern radio... They pondered.

" Are we still going with my name, dear? " John Weatherington, the new baby's father pondered, knowing that she hadn't ever considered using one of his names, she thought they were too out there.

" Hm.. what do you think, Johnny? " His partner, Estelle Weatherington, responded with a laugh. Such a laugh shut John's hopes down immediately, and he let out a deep sigh. " Come on, Essie... You can name the next child we have, can't we name him Wolffe? Please? " He jokingly put his hands together to try to convince her.

There was silence throughout the room, as she pondered this important choice over only a matter of seconds " Wolffe is such a ridiculous name.. though... if you insist that I can name the next one.. and it shuts you up... then fine. Wolffe, our firstborn boy... " Estelle sighed, cradling the small baby in her arms, swaddled in a rustic-styled blanket as he cried. She glanced over at the birth certificate, which was left blank as they had been pondering... " Wolffe.. " She uttered.


Although there was a new addition to the family, Wolffe's new beloved parents had always had a rocky history, and it didn't help that soon after Wolffe was brought home. A fierce hurricane had struck the town they were residing in: the lover's first true home together, leaving it damaged and costing thousands of dollars to repair. Having a new baby in the home as well as now needing to do repairs to stop the rain from leaking in from the tropical storm, a rift began to form between the two new parents.

" It's always like this with you! " A new argument broke out over the dinner table, John had his palms planted flat on the ornate oak table, while at the other end, Estelle was desperately trying to soothe Wolffe from crying.

" Always like this with me?! " She retorted. " I work around the clock to try to make up the funds to repair the roof, and now I've been laid off because my place of work was badly damaged during the storm! It's not my fault that I can't do anything but stay around the house; you and this... ranch! Why do you want to maintain some old, run-down ranch so badly while it's only draining a hole in our pockets? We don't even have any cattle! " Estelle's voice was harsh, yet full of the pain of a new mother, just trying to defend herself, when in reality; both sides were flawed.

" This could save our finances! " John grew increasingly irate then, standing up at the dinner table to bring more impact to his words. " You just can never be patient and let me work on things, it's going to ruin you one day! " Not even caring to finish his dinner anymore, he stepped away from the table, lighting up a cigarette.

Estelle shielded Wolffe as he raised his voice slightly, beginning to raise her own. " We have a gosh darn baby, Johnny! This isn't a way to live while we're taking care of something! " She grew even more defensive and emotional, already tired from a lack of sleep over the last week from becoming a new mother, she was irritated and exhausted.

" Then leave. " John said.

The room became silent.

" Leave... maybe... maybe I will... " Estelle cried softly. " And I'll find someone who cares to look after a child, someone who could be more of a father than YOU ever COULD! "

That cut deep for John, who had always dreamed of living the basic American dream, a family on a ranch with plenty of cattle, to teach his sons how to care for them, to go hunting... everything he never had with his father. John slammed his hand down on the wall. " GO ON THEN! " He yelled, before leaving the kitchen in a depressing silence, the same tune from their favourite radio growing ironic with its happy jingles contrasting that of the worn-down house.


A murk of sand whipped passed John Weatherington's face, sitting in the old, used rocking chair as he kept his feet up utilising the wooden sundeck. He would murmur under his breath as he felt his slowly drifting off to fall into an instantaneous slumber. Quickly, the sound of horses running past created a whirlwind that trailed behind them all, waking John up in the procedure. Rising from the creaking rocking chair, Mr Weatherington would put his vintage cowboy hat on while placing his hand down his back pocket to retrieve the pack of cigarettes. Lighting the bud of it, he would place it to his lips, slowly sitting back down. Gradually in the hot sun, a shadow would appear; John knew it was a horse by seeing the shadow of the animal but didn't know what was riding it. Dust soaring from the sides, John would lean forward from his rocking chair, placing a hand on top of his eyes obscuring the sunlight. A male would gallop to the terrace of Mr Weatherington's house, stopping before placing a foot down on the paved walkway that John used for his farmstead. The spurs of the male's boots glare off the sun as the individual brings himself to John and unhurriedly starts a conversation with him.

" You from around here? " The individual spoke. He placed both hands on his belt, tilting sideways as he leaned on the front of John's property.

John responded. " Mind getting off my property partner? Who are you to come up to me and ask that silly of a question? " John would pick himself up from the chair he sat in, now standing not far from the male. Another comment came from John's mouth. " Mind me asking, you from round here? "

Not far, up in the next town. Anyway, I came to see if it was you. Someone told me about you and what you wanted, Are you still interested? " The male went back to his horse as he spoke that sentence, getting his shotgun and placing a round of shells in the chamber. " Looks good to hunt here, eh? " The individual spluttered out.

" Ehhh.. " John responded quite quickly, a pause broke out before saying. " I guess, I only hunt once and a while. " John would take a step back to the front door of the ranch he owned.

" Heyyy! Partner, why you backin' upon a man? I only came here for a chat... Ain't that right? " The individual carried around his neck a scarf, a scarf of which he never needed having this being hot Texas. " Soo.. You wanna have a chat with me, or not? "

John glared unhurriedly at the shotgun that the individual held and quickly placed a hand on his offhand holster where his revolver was. John Weatherington swiftly took the gun out, keeping it to his side. After this, John muttered under his breath " I ain't here for no chat of yours partner, now... Do you want me for something? "

The individual grew more tense, he placed his shotgun into both hands. He'd take a step up to John but before he could John flew back into the house he knew. Just before he could close the door, the individual shouted. " BOYS, GET THE MAN! "

Gunshots fired at John Weatherington's ranch, he would be in a panic state. Hiding underneath the window pane, John would fire shots of his own; seeing them fly through the beaming sun. He'd scream. " YOU FOLK WANNA DO THIS THE HARD WAY, HUH?! "

All the cowboys would come out from hiding, all of them waiting for John's door to open for them to rush inside. John would shoot another round of bullets at the cowboy gang, hitting two of the members in the arm and leg... John slowly got up from the window he hid behind, showing his face the Individual now had a mask on his face, the scarf he once wore around his neck was covering his face in the act of crime. Across the dusty landscape, a bunch of riders who carried big long rifles in their hands drove their horses down the hillside to then start shooting at the cowboy gang. The cowboy gang took cover, shooting back. John whispered " Another gang of idiots, is this a rivalry? " A rivalry is was, the cowboy gangs shot at each other, John joining in with the revolver he had on him, shooting at one gang member's leg; knocking him down. The other gang who carried the rifles shot all the men who were at John's door... John would slowly come out of his shot-up ranch, saying:

" Who are you and who are they folk who were trying to attack me so badly? " John would place his revolver back into his holster, placing a hand to the new group of cowboys. " I'm John, John Weatherington "

The leader of the gang spoke. " Howdy partner... You can call me whatever you want and whoever you want, the names Buck " Buck walked over to his horse, storing his rifle on the side of the horse before stating while pointing at the men and an alone woman he had with him. " These are my men, uhh... And one woman. We have Cole, Wells, Morgon, Colton and finally Sadey. "

John responded with a nod. " You a gang of gunslingers, thought they went out of fashion years ago... My old man was one and died to another one. " He'd slowly look down to the people who stood looking up to him.

Buck spoke again. " Sorry to hear that partner... Your pops was probably a good man tryin' to live his life that he was holdin' onto. Anyway, you want to come down to the saloon with us fella? "

John humbly agreed, responding with. " You know, why not? " John would slowly walk off his balcony to then climb onto his horse to ride off with the group of cowboys.



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