In the tranquil ambiance of Dutch's tent, bathed in the soft early morning light, you found yourself seated beside him. The air carried a hint of smoke, courtesy of Dutch's ever-present cigar. As your eyes met, he reached out, gently tousling your hair. With a tender gesture, he passed you his cigar, nestling it between your lips,

"There you go, darlin'..." he murmured in a deep, sleepy voice, a testament to his recent awakening.