Riding through the desolate streets was a man, his face weathered by time and hardship, a stark goatee standing out against his bald head. Dressed in faded cargo pants, a dark shirt, and an olive green baseball cap pulled low over his determined eyes, he guided his black and white paint forward. The horse’s muscles rippled under its spotted hide as it moved with steady purpose, navigating the ruins of the post-apocalyptic world. Its rider sat tall, well-armed and well-equipped. Beside him, a wiry, long furred, Bernese mix, a mutt born from hard times, sprinted effortlessly through the dust. The dog’s fur fluttered in the wind, its sharp eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for threats, always loyal and always ready. Together, they had crossed countless miles of abandoned highways, ghost towns, and forsaken landscapes. And this town was no different. See more