The young woman-- Kate, as she introduced herself-- kept getting more intriguing. She was forthright, open, and yet simultaneously beguiling. Every action felt intentional, directed to create a different image of herself in his lowly-sobering eyes. The way she held the bottle, for example, rocking it slowly but actively against the meeting of her crotch was nothing if not suggestive. It drew his eyes, against his will. He chided himself for his improper focusing, but then changed his mind, letting his eyes wander over her appearance freely.

	She was really quite an attractive little thing. She had clearly been through quite a bit, but instead of crumbling like stone, she had hardened like iron tempered in a forge. Her face wasn't old enough to be terribly wrinkled, but it did have some of the hardness that might be expected in an older woman. Somehow, as he examined her, the enormous pistol she had rested against her thigh seemed to fit her more and more. No wonder people called her by the gun's name, it seemed like an extension of her personality: menacing yet beautiful, cold yet observant. She carried the weapon as openly as she did her past, revealing it without hesitation when the moment demanded it. In every way possible, she was a far cry from the demure little housewives and tired, uninterested whores he had experience with. In a life filled with death, this girl was filled with vibrant life.

	Somehow, through an enormous exertion of willpower, Reuben tore his eyes from the enticing figure before him. The bottle kept moving suggestively against her, but he dragged his unwilling eyes to her face, as she spoke once more, interrupted only momentarily by the sound of gunfire below them.

	"Manning... Yeah, I've heard of the bastard. He's a particularly nasty fellow, from what I've been told." He was startled by the girl's wink more than the sound of the gunshot. Somehow it seemed more immediately threatening to him. He went quiet as Kate began recounting the horrific circumstances that had led to her search for vengeance.

	He didn't have a response to the harrowing tale brought before him. He let out his breath slowly as she finished, her cheeks remarkably free of tears after the recounting. Her eyes seemed hard, at odds with the levity with which she spoke. This tale was clearly one on which she had dwelled significantly. He couldn't place by her age exactly how long ago it would have happened, but she had certainly suffered the effects for long enough that it had reshaped her entire worldview into something grim and humorless. It was remarkable that she was able to maintain such a strong front with something like that shadowing her. He shivered internally. He'd hate to be the man that did this one wrong. She seemed more than capable of fulfilling the threats she spat with vengeance and acidity.

	Leaning forward somewhat in his seat, Reuben regarded the young woman carefully, scratching his chin contemplatively as he spoke. "I see. You were done wrong by these men, terribly wrong, and you want to be the one who exacts your revenge on them. A bit of vigilante justice, eh?" He smiled despite himself. Yes... this he could get behind. No good showing his hand so early, but the idea had a remarkable appeal.

	As Kate finished off a sip of the drink, he adjusted his seating once more, though the reason was different. There was something enticing about seeing her drink from a bottle that had been so tightly nestled in the crook between her legs. He chided himself for thinking such, but made no effort to look away from the sight, accepting the bottle and downing a hearty swallow himself before setting it aside once more.

	"Well. I'm not sure how t' take your callin' out of my heritage. I know plenty of men with indian blood who can't track worth shit. I'm not one of those men, luckily for you. I couldn't tell you if it's my Comanche grandmother or just a talent for it, but I imagine I would be mighty useful to someone like you." He smiled, though it didn't meet his eyes. "I wouldn't dare lie to you and say that your quest doesn't sound as worthy as any I've heard of. Retribution... yes, I admit, I like the sound of that." He slowly, carefully rose from the chair, tugging his trousers up a bit as he did. Fortunately, the pistol was still on the bed, rather than in the fearsome young woman's capable hand.

	"I have some things to fetch from the stable first, and there is, of course, the matter of payment for my participation, but dammit..." He trailed off, a light coming into his eyes that gave him the look of someone years younger. "Yes, god damn it, I'll do it." He extended one callused hand before him to shake that of the girl's. "Kate Clementine, let's see about gettin' you some fuckin' retribution."