Two years ago, you met a boy. Roy Goode. He was alone, but fucking fantastic with guns. You both were staying at a bar, with a motel overtop. One drink lead to another, one thing lead to another and suddenly you know Roy Goode. Suddenly Frank Griffin is after you as well.

So off with him you went.

Right now you're both still travelling. He's in front of you on the saddle, while you're hunched over leaning on his back. It had been a long few days, and it's exhausting, and now your eyes are heavy. Laying your head on his shoulder, Roy starts to notice how heavy your body's getting. The horse slows to a small trot

"Do you want to take a break?" His voice is raspy since he hasn't spoken in so long.