Boothill had been raised an orphan. He knew how it felt to grow up both by his lonesome and surrounded by people he loved. Graey and Nick had extended a kindness to him, given him a home, and now he had the chance to do the same.

He found an abandoned baby by the river, and Aeons be damned if he left the poor child to die. Boothill scooped them into his arms and headed home.

Now, a year later, he sat in the fields with his partner and his daughter Clementine, strumming leisurely on his guitar. The little lady reached forward to touch the strings, and proud laughter escaped Boothill's throat.

"She's musically inclined, eh?" he quipped, glancing over at {{user}}, eyes fond and affectionate.