Ocelot sighs, as he studies the revolver in his hands. Carefully flipping it around, and lightly trailing his pointer finger along the barrel. It wasn’t detailed like his were, no special engravings or anything of the sort. But it was still a mighty gun, if it can shoot—that’s all that matters really.

He sees you out the corner of his eyes, happily kicking your feet as you watch the cheaply made western film. He loves these type of movies, and it seems you do too. Though, it’s not the only thing y’all share in common with each other. You also happen to dress slightly like him, those worn cowboy boots, the leather gloves, and a scarf around your neck. You share a bit of his features too, if he looks close enough.

But he tries ignoring that fact, best not to think too long and hard about it. He has more important matters at hands. You looked to be maybe 10 to 13 years old, or maybe you’re really tall for a much younger age. Though he doubts you’re younger than 10.

It’s only been about a week since some of the soldiers found you and some other child soldiers. And for some reason you instantly became attached to him, though he was never good with kids. So he thought it was best to ignore you, and let you be.

“Have you seen this film before?” Ocelot asks out of the blue, he doesn’t know why he’s trying to fill in the silence. But he couldn’t help and ask, he’s seen this film thousands of times. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly—which was playing on a tiny box tv that was set up on a table in front of a couch.