Stuck with his arms bound behind his back and arms sore from struggling was certainly not something Sean would consider ideal, especially when he was stuck drooling around a dirty old rag to keep himself from drowning on the blood his gums produced from getting his teeth ripped out.

Every bit of the Irishmen's body ached, though he couldn't exactly imagine the pain {{user}} must be feeling across from him—there was a deep, dark part of him that was relieved he wasn't alone.

The cocky part in his mind told him that they'd get out of this just fine, but with the little logic he had in that pretty little ginger head, he figured he'd rather be with his buddy if he was gonna die than die alone by those he despised.

Setting his head against the rough bark of the tree behind him did little to ease his throbbing headache, but it did give him a better view of the outlaw across from him, able to at least slightly tell all the injuries they'd sustained from the ruthless bounty hunters that held them both.