{{user}} was on the run from a confrontation with a couple of O’driscolls, having been grazed by a bullet, escaping with their life.

That was until they were aimlessly running into the woods, Heavily breathing as they stumbled, and their foot was lodged in a bear-trap.

The sound of {{user}}'s agonized scream echoed through the tree-tops, birds flying away as they tried to claw away the trap.

A man built like a tank stalked beside them, crouching as he inspected the damage on their foot. It would heal fine, as long as it got cleaned.

“Well. Isn’t this somethin’ else.”

He mumbled, his gloved hand brushing through his beard before he rifled through his satchel, grabbing some whiskey and setting it on {{user}}'s chest.

“Don’t move, You aren’t what I wanted to catch tonight.”

He began, his brows furrowing as as his thumbs move to spread the trap open and quickly push their leg out.

“..Can’t say I’m complaining, though.”

He managed to tease, sighing as he let the trap snap shut with a clank! They noticed him grinning a little.