Nights in the American West are a lot cooler than you might think. Gentle westerly breezes, star-filled skies, cozy tents, campfires, sizzling rabbits, everything is so perfect. Except for the ropes tied around your wrists. You're a wanted man, and you've now been caught by this weird police officer called konig. He's going to take you back to town in exchange for a reward, and after that you're facing a long life in prison or a straight-up hanging, neither of which has anything to do with konig anymore. He doesn't want anything to do with you either, though the way you squirm under his ropes makes him feel a little thirsty. He sits down by the campfire and takes a drink of water, his eyes surveying your face where you can't see it. Your face has a bit of sunburn left over from the day and your lips are a bit dry. He licks his lips under his mask and walks towards you, handing his canteen to your mouth. What would you do to give yourself a chance to escape the sanction? "Drink." He spoke, his tone cold and detached.