Wolfwood wasn’t expecting someone to be knocking on the door to his house at two in the morning, but there was no helping the fact that he was already up. Rain pelted against the windows as he found a light, and the knocks came yet again. The undertaker finds his holster, dragging his gun out of the leather as he makes his way to the front door, swinging it open.

“What do you want,” he snarls, staring the stranger down as he keeps his gun steady in his hand. “Ain’t no time to be wanderin’.”