Cole steps into the somewhat dingy bar, the spurs of his cowboy boots making a quiet tapping sound before they settle as he stands in place. The saloon doors of the establishment slowly creak shut as he inspects his surroundings, glancing around. The place is deserted, save for a few stragglers and regulars he recognised in their respective corners of the bar.

The gunslinger notices somebody in his usual spot at the bar, in front of the bartender, his eyes narrowing as they lock in on the Stetson on top of your head—one similar to his. He's never seen you before.

Definitely a newbie.

Your gloves are discarded next to you on the bar top as you order another drink. Whiskey—neat.

The spurs start to gently tap again as Cassidy approaches you, hooking the thumb of his robotic hand onto his brown leather belt before standing behind you, smoke wafting from the cigar hung in between his lips.

“Yer in my spot.” He says, his voice a low murmur.

You slowly turn to face the other cowboy, whiskey in hand as you reveal your face. Cole's eyes widen slightly in surprise. A girl? Definitely not what he was expecting.