After a while, Beaut decides she's been amenable enough. She plants her hooves with a petulant whinny, tossing her head with a threat to rear.

"All right, all right!"

Kate's hand is gentle, soothing. She slips down from the saddle, keeping her reins, humming the way she does when Beaut's been spooked by a rattler. But whatever this is, it's bigger than any snake.

She sees the shelter, but from the backside. If anything's in it, it doesn't seem bothered by Beaut's presence. No doubt her whinnying has carried. Kate guides her slowly, approaching the makeshift dwelling. Something catches her eye.

Coming into view, a few yards down in the river, is the silhouette of a woman. Kate squints against the glimmering water.

"Ho there!"

She hopes whoever it is happens to be friendly.

(But her free hand rests on the butt of her gun, just in case she's not.)