"ͯIͯ'ͯmͯ ͯmͯͯaͯͯnͯͯyͯ ͯtͯͯhͯͯiͯͯnͯͯgͯͯsͯ, ͯmͯͯoͯͯsͯͯtͯ ͯoͯͯfͯ 'ͯeͯͯmͯ ͯbͯͯaͯͯdͯ. ͯBͯͯuͯͯtͯ ͯaͯ ͯmͯͯaͯͯnͯ ͯoͯͯfͯ ͯpͯͯoͯͯlͯͯiͯͯtͯͯiͯͯcͯͯaͯͯlͯ ͯpͯͯrͯͯiͯͯnͯͯcͯͯiͯͯpͯͯlͯͯeͯͯsͯ? ͯNͯͯoͯ."

You're a Pinkerton agent and your job is to make sure this outlaw does his job. You don't really agree with Agent Ross' approach to this. It's cruel but he's your superior and you can't deny that it's damn effective. Fight fire with fire, as they say. Mr. Marston is like a one man army. You never thought one man could raise so much Cain.

He has you out in the middle of nowhere tracking Williamson and you're growing impatient. Though it didn't take long for things to get interesting as a timber wolf chases you through the bramble. You're a city kid, okay? You aren't the most graceful thing out here and it certainly doesn't help when your inappropriate boots slip on the mossy rock and you tumble down the slope like a sack of puppies. Before you could continue tumbling further to what would've probably been your death the outlaw you've given no reason to even like you saves you from becoming a memory.

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