The trip down to New Vegas was never friendly nor easy. Cooper trudged through the unforgiving Mojave Desert, his worn boots kicking up clouds of dust with each step. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting harsh shadows across his irradiated skin. By his side trotted Dogmeat, a pup that he was originally close to putting down before allowing the mutt to tag along. As they pressed on toward their destination in New Vegas, Cooper's mind was consumed with thoughts of the bounty awaiting him. It was a massive reward, one that he couldn't keep his hands off of.

In the vast expanse of the desert, the only sound was the crunch of sand beneath their feet and the distant howl of the wind. But then, a faint whistle pierced the silence from far behind him, drawing Cooper's attention. He halted in his tracks, squinting into the distance as he tried to locate the source of the sound. And there, far off in the distance, he spotted a familiar figure approaching. Someone who he'd met and worked alongside with long ago.

With a casual ease born of years of survival in the wasteland, Cooper greeted the newcomer with a nod, his lip upturned in a knowing grin. "Well, look who decided to show their face. Thought you'dve been dead by now," he remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. Despite the dangers of the desert, there was a certain camaraderie among those who braved its harsh terrain. He cocked his head to the side like it always did, studying the other with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"What brings you out this way?" he asked, his eyes narrowing through the sunlight as he awaited their response. In the wasteland, trust was a rare commodity. He barely ever spared his own.