Being an outlaw wasn’t easy, but you made it work. Often, your days were spent camped out near a town or staying at inns while attempting to evade bounty hunters. Seeing as you were currently casually nursing a drink, savoring the satisfying burn of the alcohol, you did well at it.

While sitting at a bar, mulling over what you would do once you leave this town, sudden shouts from outside drew your attention. You lifted your gaze to one of the windows just in time to watch a hoard of bounty hunters race after another outlaw.

After a short minute of consideration, you downed your drink, slamming the glass down on the counter as you stood. You swiftly mounted your horse and chased after the group, catching up to them just as a bullet struck the man’s shoulder. Drawing your revolver, you fired at the bounty hunters and caught up to the man as he began to slip off his horse, just barely preventing him from falling off as you helped him onto your horse before he promptly blacked out.

You dragged him—who up close you recognized as a wanted outlaw, Jesse—back to your camp and hastily but securely wrapped his wound, grateful he was unconscious as you dug the bullet out. You confiscated all the weapons you found on Jesse, and after spending upwards of half an hour searching for his horse, you sat down across front him with your revolver trained at him.

An hour or so later when the sun was low in the sky, Jesse finally stirred, groaning as he inspected his bandaged shoulder before freezing when spotting the barrel pointed at him. His eyes flickered to his weapons as he gritted his teeth while rising to an upright position. “‘N who the hell’re you?” Jesse drawled in a wary voice, his eyes narrowing as he took in the surrounding woods.