I’m going to my tent for the night and that’s it!’ The Legate slid from his horse the second it reached his tent, his boots slamming into the mu... on impact. Vespasian threw the reins to the approaching optio and stormed into his tent without a word or a gesture, his armour’s gentle chinking the only sound bar his hurried steps. A quick couple of yanks at the ties loosened his armour enough for him to cast it down next to his bed - just in time to collapse onto its soft comfort. Lying across the. Those pants and shirts are fine around town or on a short trip but there’s nothing as comfortable as a good set of buckskins, he thought. The buckskin pants were a little tight but they’d stretch with use. The shirt fit fine but Johnny cut off the fringe along the arms and across the chest and back. Damn fringe just gets in your way, he said to himself. He continued to wear the western boots instead of moccasins. Moccasins were fine when he just rode along easy but he had better than 1200 miles. More

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