Javier looked over as he was sharpening his blades, he watched you walk towards the horses from the tent Arthur helped you set up a few days ago.

You were new in the gang, you came from the hands of the Pinkertons, being helped by Arthur and John. Javier however, held a grudge against you. You were beautiful, you had a beautiful, soothing voice but yet he held a grudge that you were a Pinkerton.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched you speak with Kieran, the man that was an O’Driscoll.