[ emma steels herself for an argument, geared up as she gets to rightfully defend her stubbornness, but—
it doesn't come.
nodding, emma pushes up the sleeves of her dress, going up to the bounty hunter with those four holes bleeding slowly onto her floor. she stops short as she looks down at him, but only for half a moment, and then she's ready to help vasquez move the man out of the house. part of emma had hoped this would never be something she'd do again, coming this close to a freshly-slaughtered man, helping to clear out the dead, but she supposes this is the price of vasquez's life: the lives of men after a fair chunk of change who'd just as readily gun the outlaw down in return.
no subject
it doesn't come.
nodding, emma pushes up the sleeves of her dress, going up to the bounty hunter with those four holes bleeding slowly onto her floor. she stops short as she looks down at him, but only for half a moment, and then she's ready to help vasquez move the man out of the house. part of emma had hoped this would never be something she'd do again, coming this close to a freshly-slaughtered man, helping to clear out the dead, but she supposes this is the price of vasquez's life: the lives of men after a fair chunk of change who'd just as readily gun the outlaw down in return.
what a trade. ]
We can— bury them farther out.