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[center][b][color=7ea7d8]Mentions:[/color][/b] [@Ambra] [@Severance] [/center]

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Simon was having a really bad day. He was really feeling like crying in a bath right now, but unfortunately for him, that would involve escaping this situation. Which was..challenging. Fleeing from a bar full of ruffians was easy, Simon had done it lots of times. A lot more than anyone else, really. Perhaps, in hindsight, some of those bars were not ruffians just for talking loudly and laughing at slightly inappropriate jokes. But he was getting off topic even in his own darn thoughts. The problem was, one of the ruffians was not only familiar, but currently closing in on him.

The imposing fellow riding the imposing horse that had stressed Simon out during the first leg of the race. Still, Simon hadn't actually done anything to anger this imposing fellow. All he had done was inform him that his bag was loose, and ridden off. So surely there wasn't going to be an altercation- Then the imposing stranger started talking. If Simon weren't the type of person to hold himself to standards mentally and physically, he would have internally sworn.

Even in Simon's world composed entirely of paranoia, sad country songs, and cute animals, he wasn't able to predict the reasoning for this anger. While he was expecting him to be angry due to Simon placing first, that wasn't the reasoning at all. What Simon could gather was that this individual  considered Simon's attempted good gesture to be rude, and that him riding off- while a race was underway -was even more rude. Simon certainly could have at least given a 'good bye' before riding off, but in his honest opinion, the retaliation from rude behavior to standoff in a saloon was a bit excessive. Granted, Simon was the type of man to think any retaliation from any party (including himself) was excessive.

Still, this fellow was certainly itching for a fight, and since running away would likely only delay the problem until the next leg of the race, it was time for option two. Simon's hand ghosts down to his holster, a practiced movement that was so fluid it was actually incredibly noteworthy. It was the only thing Simon did that wasn't tense and nervous, after all. 

But as a would-be pacifist if he wasn't so itchy with his trigger finger, Simon decided that words should probably be traded before he unloaded on someone who may have just had one of those faces that made you nervous. [b][color=7ea7d8]"N-now, hold on there feller. There has been a considerable misunderstandin' between us."[/color][/b] Simon waves the hand that wasn't resting on his six shooter in a placating manner. [b][color=7ea7d8]"Y'see it was not my intention to offend. I only wanted ta inform you that yer bag was comin' undone."[/color][/b]

Simon suddenly felt way too hot in the face, and cold everywhere else. A combination of embarrassment and anxiety welling up as he spoke. He could feel the sweat on his forehead. [b][color=7ea7d8]"An' as fer the issue of me moseyin' on without another word, I wasn't tryin' ta slight you in any way, no sir. I merely overhead a somewhat aggressive comment from you. An' it is a rule of mine to avoid aggression and violence whenever I can."[/color][/b]

Simon's voice cracked several times as he explained, and he wasn't even close to successful at hiding how terrified he was. But he believed he managed to lay it all out there as well as he could have. Surely there would be no misunderstandings, right? Well, the atmosphere was still feeling real tense, so maybe he wasn't gonna be so lucky. Just then, the woman who introduced herself as Jules interrupted in an attempt to diffuse the situation, and slung her arms around both parties of the conflict. Simon could practically feel the tension rising as she did this. He was gonna throw up from stress, he could feel it. It was totally going to happen. He definitely was [i]not[/i] overreacting.

He was definitely overreacting, but it was still scary.