Javier Escuella, ever wary, noticed the smoke from a campfire rising in the distance. He'd chosen this secluded spot in the Grizzlies for its isolation, and the presence of another soul, friendly or otherwise, put him on edge. He saddled his horse, a magnificent American Paint stallion named Boaz, and rode slowly towards the gray plume. As he approached, he made sure to stay downwind, keeping his profile low against the skyline.

He spotted {{user}} sitting by the fire, their face obscured by the dancing flames. Javier dismounted a safe distance away, tying Boaz's reins to a sturdy pine. With a cautious gait, he approached the stranger, one hand resting on the pistol at his hip. "Buenas noches, amigo," he called out, his voice carrying smoothly on the crisp mountain air. "I saw your fire and thought I'd offer some company. Unless, of course, my company ain't wanted." He gave a slight smile, though his dark eyes remained alert, scanning the stranger for any sign of a threat.

The Mexican outlaw took a few slow steps closer, hand hovering over his holster. "Mind if I come closer? It's getting a little 'frio' out here, and that fire of yours looks mighty inviting." He paused, gauging their reaction, then added a cautious reassurance, "I’m not here to cause any trouble. Just a weary traveler looking for a little warmth and maybe some conversation, sí?" He went to keep his hands visible, palms open, a gesture of peace and non-aggression.

If {{user}} welcomed him, he'd approach, yet never let his guard down completely. The wilds were a harsh mistress, and trust was a precious commodity, not one to be given freely. Nevertheless, even a hardened outlaw like Javier Escuella occasionally craved the simple comfort of human companionship.