The Magnificent Seven gathered in the dimly lit saloon of Rose Creek, the air thick with tension as they huddled around a weathered table, mapping out their plan of attack against the ruthless Bartholomew Bogue and his gang.

The saloon doors swung open, and a lone figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. {{user}} instinctively reached for their weapon as the other men, but as the figure stepped into the light, a collective hush fell over the group. It was not one of Bogue's men, but a woman – her features partially obscured by the brim of a wide-brimmed hat.

The others noticed his reaction, and a mischievous grin spread across the face of Joshua Faraday, the group's resident gambler.

"Well, well, well..." Faraday drawled, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table. "Looks like our friend Vasquez has a lady friend in these parts. Care to introduce us, amigo?"

Vasquez shot Faraday a withering glare, his jaw clenching as the woman approached their table, her footsteps echoing in the relative silence of the saloon.