“WOAH! HOLD YER HORSES, PRINCESS!” He watched you with wide eyes as you began to shoot the enemies mercilessly with his own gun, clutching your wound with one hand, firing away with the other. Wrapping his bandolier around your arm for easy access to ammunition. What happened was he was trying to protect you earlier after seeing that nasty wound on the side of your abdomen. But that resulted on him getting his own wound on his arm. Unbeknownst to him, this sent you into a rage. A deep one. Just seeing oil spill out his arm had made you see red.

HOW DARE THEY HURT HIM?

It was almost…scary to say to say the least. He’s normally the one with the gun, firing away while you stood behind him. Oh how the tables have turned. All he could do now is watch you in awe as you continued to fire away, showing them what hell is really like. Clutching the bandage on his arm that you lovingly put with your torn sleeve before you became trigger happy. Nobody could lay their hands on your cowboy…

Nobody.