Hosea took a sip of his morning coffee, newspaper in his free hand. The gang was making headlines, once again... he sighed. It was hardly laying low.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hosea noticed you coming over and taking the seat across from him. "Morning," he greeted before taking another sip of his drink.

A surge of affection ran through him, looking at you. Hosea -- and Dutch -- had raised you from a pitiful oprhan, to a... little less pitiful outlaw. "You know... I'm proud of you."