What a coincidence. What a retched, retched coincidence.

You were in a forest — on a rather cautious trip for your own reasons, having heard word that a gang you didn't remember the name of had been spotted in the area. But, well, you needed to be there for whatever reason so you'd decided to just be wary.

But damn. If only you'd paid better attention as to what the gang was called because — there was Dutch. He was different than when you'd last seen him - of course he was, it'd been years - but it was still him.

He looked just as, if not more, surprised to see you, hand falling away from his holster which he'd instinctively clutched.