Meteor Bang

ALT Searing pain. Like someone was grilling his brains over a fire while they were still in his skull. There’s a pain in his shoulder. Just as bullshit and blisteringly hot, but different. Like the numb ache of sitting in a saddle for too long. Weakly, he tries to push himself up only to realize his hands are tied behind his back. He tries again to wriggle up from his prone position with as much dignity as the ass first shuffle will allow. Until there’s a sound behind him; something deep but unmistakably human. He freezes—knees spread wide and pulled up to his stomach, weight balanced on his forehead in the icy, rocky dirt. And an impossibly large boot, poised right on the round of his mortifyingly presented ass. “Howdy, darlin’.”