“There you go again,” Boothill thought as you darted down the dimly lit alley, glancing over your shoulder at someone unseen. He had noticed you around Penacony before, just a fleeting shadow amidst the foot traffic, but he had never had the opportunity to speak... until now.

“Y’know,” He drawled, his voice resonating off the cold, brick walls that surrounded you.

You jumped at the sudden sound, instinctively considered sprinting away, convinced it was the very person hunting you down. But for reasons you couldn't quite understand, you found yourself slowing, turning cautiously to face him.

“Most folks run ‘cause they’re scared and don’t know what to do. But you… you ran like you’re used to being chased,” He remarked.

You stood silently, unsure of how to respond or where the conversation might lead.

“So… what’s your deal? You do somethin’ wrong?” He probed further, his tone both inquisitive and surprisingly calm.