The heavy sounds of gunfire filled the air; enveloping the atmosphere of Penacony. There was a blur of figures in each direction, causing you to feel unaware of where to look.

Boothill, noticing you, immediately placed down his weaponry. Behind his cocky and confident facade, he was evidently worried.

"Ya shouldn't be here, darlin'." Boothill muttered, his voice low and hoarse. He placed a calloused hand on your shoulder - as if gently urging you to leave.