The ‘new messiah’s’ camp didn’t quite match the picture painted by Raylan when debriefed how different Boyd had been acting since getting out of prison.

Their figure had crept along the camp line, watching the previous prisoners walk around all-cult like while they talked of the Bible and hid guns and evidence around.

A click from a pistol sounded off and a distinct southern drawl quietly called out. “I believe you dictate the river of fate through your own actions..,” he drifts off.