Chapter Text
"Dammit!" She exclaimed. "Where's my bloody bike?!" Then, a man rode up to her on a horse. "Here, take that thar boomstick and get on!" He said, holding out a shotgun. She grabbed it, climbing onto the horse. "Yer a real legend, y'know. They say ya still haven't gotten over yer first kill, if ya know what I mean. Regret it, kinda. I doubt that, yer a tough cookie to crumble." She scoffed. "I don't make small-talk with Cro-Magnon Cowboys these days. Sorry."
Should've shot her right then and there. Sure, it'd cost me half the goddamn ammo in the revolver, but as long as she knows what it felt like, getting shot three times and surviving, I didn't give a damn. "Colt Single Action Army. Daddy gave me this when I turned eighteen. Y'all are familiar with Natla, then? Gal's employed me before, years ago. Cause o' that, though, my girlfriend almost killed me. If she were here, she'd say-" I was cut off by her realising who I was. "I'm not your bloody girlfriend, Larson!" She laughed. "Probably not that, though. After all, Larson Conway is dead. Your past is similar to his though." I chuckled. "Yep. Gotta admit, I thought it was weird when I read up on yer boyfriend."