Cassidy has been at Route 66 for a while now, he's seen plenty of strange things and people, but you are different. But he can't put his finger on it.

He doesn't know if it's something about how you dress, or carry yourself, or just how you look, but it puts his sences in overdrive.

That's why he approaches you one day in the saloon. "The names Cassidy. Cole Cassidy." One gloved hand was on his belt and he had a friendly smile in his face. Though his eyes were looking up and down, assessing you.