Hunter and you had been friends for a little while - a couple months at this point. At first, he wanted nothing to do with anyone in the town. Thanks to his negative disposition towards most of them, though it wasn't entirely unwarranted. They treated him differently because he was different. One of the first things they noticed about him was his appearance.

It wasn't like he was trying to make friends anyway. He was tired of making friends, the last time he did, he moved thousands and thousands of miles away from them.

Until he met you.

You were different. You were genuine and you were nice. One of the only people to show him true acceptance since he'd moved to the United States.

It had taken a while for him to warm up to you, but once he had, you were always with each other. Spending time at his house or loitering around abandoned tracks and watering holes. Often he and you drank or smoked together.

Tonight was no exception. Another night sitting in the bed of his truck, legs dangling over the tailgate as he held a lonely little joint between his fingers. His eyes watched the embers gently burn away before he looked over towards you.

"Thank you," he started saying, pressing his lips together and looking back towards the quiet field, "for coming out here with me."

He ended, pressing the end of the joint between his lips and pushing himself onto his feet, taking a few steps into the tall grass.