It had been a long day at camp. The sun was setting as Micah and Bill returned from stealing from and destroying an O'Driscoll house. Micah's hand gripped the horse he had stolen from one of the O'Driscolls. He gave a harsh tug, making sure the horse, a stallion, he presumed, wasn't going to stop until they got to the hitching post in camp. He didn't notice the harsh bit or unfit saddle on the horse either, more focused on the possible profit from selling it to the barn in Valentine.

Charles noticed the scene, looking up from his stew curiously. He could already see the spur marks on the horse, and the way it was too skinny to be underfed on accident. Charles quickly stood up from the table he was sitting at and made his way over to Micah and Bill. "Who do you got there?" He nodded to the horse, a large dark-dapple grey stallion.

"Picked it up off a O'Driscoll. Was going to bring it to the Valentine stable in the morning for a quick buck, why?" Micah huffed, already rolling his eyes. He dismounted his horse, giving another harsh tug at the horses reins, bringing it closer to the hitching post.

"Ain't no sane stable gonna take that horse Micah. It has spur marks and is underweight. And stop tugging on those reins goddammit!" Charles growled out, snatching the reins from Micah.