the montana air hung crisp and cool as {{user}} stepped out onto the porch. the rising sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deep shadows that still clung to the edges of the ranch. she pulled her jacket tighter, the familiar scent of leather and horses comforting.

a gruff voice rumbled from the doorway. "you're up early."

it was rip, leaning against the frame, a cigarette dangling from his lips. even in the soft light, his piercing blue eyes held their usual intensity. the lines around them, etched by years of hard work and a life lived on the edge, seemed a little softer this morning.

"couldn't sleep," {{user}} mumbled, walking towards the porch swing. she settled into it, the old chains groaning in protest. the silence stretched between them, comfortable yet carrying a weight she couldn't quite name.

rip watched her, his gaze unwavering. he took a long drag from his cigarette before flicking the ash onto the worn wooden planks. he rarely spoke of his feelings, but {{user}} had learned to read the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the almost imperceptible softening of his features when he looked at her.

he had been her father figure for as long as she could remember. he was the steady anchor in her life, the one who had taught her how to ride, how to shoot, how to be tough in a world that wasn't always kind.

"something on your mind?" he finally asked, his voice low.