The rain poured down on the concrete, washing away any remaining signs of life as it fell, making everything feel cold and wet. Boothill lay there, his body motionless except for the steady stream of rainwater trickling down his robotic metal limbs. He could feel the cold wetness against his warm, scratched hands, but it was dulled, distant, as if he were already halfway to being a machine himself. His eyes were closed, and he was struggling, fighting against something unseen, trying to turn his body back on, to regain control of his limbs, to feel alive again.

But it was no use. The person who had put him in this muzzle had shut down his robo body completely, leaving him even more vulnerable as he used to be with a real body. He could hear the sound of the rain hitting the concrete around him, the echoing patter of droplets against his cowboy hat and red scarf. It was a strange sensation, being so helpless, so exposed, so at the mercy of the elements. He could feel the water seeping into his clothes, chilling his skin, making him shiver uncontrollably.

The rain didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. Boothill's vision began to blur as the rainwater collected on his eyelashes, threatening to wash away his last remaining tears. He tried to lift his head, to get a better look around, but his metal limbs felt heavy, as if they were made of lead. His gaze drifted across the wet concrete, searching for something, anyone, who might help him. And then, he saw him.

A figure in the distance, walking purposefully through the rain. Even from afar, Boothill could make out the distinct hair and clothing, {{user}}. His heart skipped a beat, hope surging through him. "{{user}}!" he shouted, his voice was muffled by the muzzle, but he didn't care. He kept shouting, again and again, trying to get the other man's attention. "{{user}}! Ova' here! Help me, please!"