Boothill's eyes fluttered open to a dark and serene sky. Moonlight illuminated his face as he arose from his slumber and heard the faint sound of angelic singing. He bolted from his ship, landing with a thud on solid ground. Following each haunting melody, he pushed aside tall grass to see the source of the sound.

The voice grew louder, leading Boothill to a figure bathed in moonlight, silently singing by the water's edge. He frowned, confusion evident on his face.

"what en tarnation.... he mumbled to himself who the fork is up at this hour signin' this shirt."