The O'Driscoll going through the stall suddenly hollered: "Holy shit! There's like... Wads of cash here!"
The other gang members shared the excitement, rushing to see for themselves. "Back to your places, idiots! We'll take the money and share it later," barked the leader. Watching that the boys did as told, with tails between their legs, he turned back to the Trapper. "You don't mind, right?"

The Trapper, taking out pack of cigar, answered to the grinning man: "Not at all." Picking up cigarette with his teeth, he offered from the rest: "We're all friends here, ain't we?"
The group's spokesman chuckled and took one: "Right."
Like his men weren't just robbing the old man, the redhead took out an expensive looking lighter, probably stolen, and lighted both of their cigars. "So you are the Trapper?"
"That's right."
"Eh, heard about you back in the St Denis. Thought you would be taller."
The Trapper just shrugged. He inhaled from his cig, surveying how the men were spread around the camp.

"You got any wild stories?" the O'Driscoll asked, bored as how easy this was going. The old hunter wasn't putting up any fight. He thought, after hearing all kinds of stories back in the city, that the Trapper would be some kind of wild man. Who could smell a deer from miles, wrestle down a bear and speak to snakes. This? This was a letdown.
The Trapper snorted and glanced up at the sky. He heard a familiar sound from the distance.

"...You've ever seen a mountain lion?"
"A what?"
Damn city boys.
"A cougar."
The ginger shook his head, intrigued where this was going.
"Not many have, they're reclusive creatures. Unlike wolves, a cougar hunts alone. Silently, even when it runs. They're hard to shoot 'cause how quick they are."
"Luckily I'm a fast shooter," the O'Driscoll trifled. "What about the story?"
The Trapper stared passively for a minute, then sighed. Taking the half-burned cigarette he tossed it to the campfire. "Once in the New Austin I hunted a cougar. Locals hired me, as the beast had killed villagers and animals for some time. It didn't have fear of man, but it was clever enough to avoid getting caught. I tried all kinds of tricks to lure it out. Baits and traps. Finally bought alive goat and set it at middle of the puma's territory."
"Boss, we gonna shoot the feller and go?"
"Shhh!" the O'Driscoll hissed at his buddy, turning his attention back to the Trapper.

"...I waited all day with another hunter, a local. Good man. At night a pack of coyotes came for the goat. I chased them off with my rifle. There was no mind laying in wait after that. I got up and turned to tell my friend. Except that he was dead, and half-eaten. And the cougar laid next to his body, waiting for me to notice it."

The O'Driscoll, as also the others, stiffened and some turned pale as he revealed the twist of the story. The Trapper nodded as if to confirm that this was true. He lifted both of his hands up in the air. "A cougar can stalk right behind you. And you won't even notice, until its teeth are on your neck."

Remote bam made the men flinch and one of them laid on the ground with a bleeding hole at the side of his head. Another distant gunshot and another O'Driscoll got hit. He clawed an open wound on his neck. The rest started reacting and the Trapper pulled out his old army pistol, shooting one of them. He then rushed behind a cover, as also did the last O'Driscoll.
"Colm's gonna make you pay for this!"
The unlucky bastard was hit by two bullets at the same time.
Sitting down the Trapper waited, with his gun in hand, till hearing the whistle two times. Dropping the tension from his shoulders he lighted up another cigarette, inhaled and stood up to see the mess. One of the men was still alive, trembling and trying to breath while on the ground. He had been shot in the chest. The Trapper showed no remorse nor sympathy, despite how young the boy seemed. Maybe he was a bit sorry, but this is the life the other one had chosen. Lifting his gun he ended the mongrel's miserable struggle. Then went to retrieve his money.

Making coffee by the campfire the Trapper reminisced. Recalling how Strawberry was once nothing more than a small tent city for lumberjacks and hunters. Not certainly a place, where to expect to find your daughter that you didn't knew you had. He had been shocked when a stranger with a kid approached and tossed her with a letter. The girl had been quiet, no older than seven summers. He had no intentions keeping her but she was a resilient whelp. Kept following him again and again no matter how hard he tried chasing her off. Despite how she jumped from every sound in the forest and was scared, she kept following him like a shadow. And when he finally gave up, she barely could carry a rifle and shoot without being kicked back by its force.

Now she was a real sharpshooter, hunting for herself and traveling on her own.

The Trapper knew he wasn't the best father, Birch had told that many times, but at least his kid was still alive. He hadn't wanted her at first but now he couldn't be more proud of anything else he had done in his life.

Birch rushed to the camp with Charles, jumping off Stumpy and went to her father. "I'm fine, I'm fine," the Trapper grumbled and waved her off. "Now clean up your mess." The woman lifted an eyebrow. "I shot... Three times." And there was four bodies. "Like I said, your kills."
"What did they want," Charles asked. "Nothing concerning you," the Trapper answered and pour himself coffee. "Just looking for easy pickings."

Birch dragged the corpses into one pile near Stumpy. She tied one end of a rope to her saddle and the other end to one of the bodies. Charles offered help but she didn't need any, suggesting him to just rest.
Leading Stumpy down the hill she dumped the corpses one by one, leaving them for animals. After that she looked through their clothes. Taking anything useful like bullets, rations, money and medicine. She found cash, candy and bullets. She didn't even consider taking any of their valuables. She hesitated with the cash, knowing it had been most likely taken by force from someone. She watched the dead men that she had shot. Part of her knew, that she had killed human beings and not animals just now. She didn't feel anything but disgusts towards the gang members. Maybe they had their stories, their reasons, for why they joined the O'Driscoll Boys. For why they ended up into this kind of life...

Birch spat at the pile, wishing them good trip to hell. That was the only place for their kind of scum.

"Think it's time to move business elsewhere," the Trapper mused. The area was awfully active with nasty and invasive vermin.

Birch yawned next to Charles. The three of them sat around the campfire. "Where to?" she asked, tired from all the emotional stress from before.
"Thought about visiting Blackwater." It was a big port city and the state capital of West Elizabeth, located at Great Plains. Birch flopped onto her back and watched the blue sky. She didn't want to go to that direction. They had been at the Big Valley for only a month. Summer was finally here. They had just come from the east.
"You don't have to come," the Trapper said and sipped his coffee. "Do whatever you want."

That was their agreement. Birch could do whatever she wanted, go on her own and anywhere she wanted to. As long as she took the responsibility of her own actions and dealt with the consequences. Just like bringing a stranger to her father's camp. She was responsible of Charles in every way. Like feeding him and herself, hunting and gathering their meals alone. If she needed father's help, he would give that, but the Trapper preferred she took care of things on her own. Of course there was exceptions, like what happened today, but Birch had been taught to be independent. Relying on or bothering others was shameful.

She glanced at Charles who had been completely silent. It's not like he easily showed what he was thinking but there was all these little things people do without realizing, giving away their thoughts. To Birch Charles was as easy to read as tracking down a moose through deep snow. He seemed slightly nervous and she wondered was it because of the O'Driscolls. Sitting up she slightly nudged his arm. "Where's your gr- Group?"

Charles hesitated to answer, thinking about the situation behind his calm façade. The gang was at Horseshoe Lookout near a town named Valentine. He didn't know how long they would stay there. His main concern was, that if the Trapper will visit the Blackwater and learn about the Van der Linde gang, he or Birch may tip off the lawmen. Charles had no reason to believe that the father and the daughter would look so kindly at him if they knew he was an outlaw. "At east," he only said and leaved it at that.
Birch quickly came to decision: "I'll go... East, too." She smiled at the man, but he didn't mirror it like usually.

"Denis or Annesburg?"
Not answering to father just yet, Birch again glanced at Charles who was looking at her. His eyes were surprisingly dour. Almost flinching she turned her gaze away and answered: "...Annesburg."
"...Denis," Charles said after her. The unvoiced message was clear and Birch processed the sudden rejection. Had she done something wrong? Wasn't it safer to travel with someone, especially if you were injured? Was Charles mad at her or bored with her? Didn't he need her no more?

Was she unwanted?

Charles knew he had hurt Birch just now. Unlike him, she showed with her whole being what was going inside her head. Though sometimes she tried hiding it behind her long hair and avoid any expressions.
He felt guilt. But he didn't want to pull her into the mess that he and the gang was in. He didn't think she would take it well that he was a criminal, even if one with morals. He didn't want to hurt her in order to protect the gang. And even if she wouldn't see a problem with it, he didn't want her to follow him and meet the others. She was a good hunter and a hellava shot, that's for sure. Dutch would see use in her, as surely would everyone else. Charles didn't know Birch that well but he at least didn't want to be the reason to introduce her into life of robbing and killing people. If just to survive and trying to take only from those who had wealth to spread. Birch didn't deserve to live on a run from the law and forced to make questionable choices.
In her, Charles saw strength and kindness. She used violence on people who threatened with it. She had yelled at that racist stranger instead of hitting like Charles had wanted to. Having strength to hurt others but using it only to protect was rare in this world. He wanted to shield her from loosing that little innocence. Even if it meant they would go their separate ways. And not see again, hopefully, for both of their sakes.

It was better to get into move as soon as possible than take a risk for any more O'Driscolls showing up. Setting the dead gang members' horses free, the Trapper shut down his camp and Birch packed up her and Charles' things. Or she tried to, telling him that she could handle it all. "I can do it," he roughly picked up one of his things and went to put it on Taima. Birch didn't say anything, nodding silently and tried to focus onto gathering her own stuff.

The Trapper noticed the sudden cold shoulder his daughter was receiving. He decided not to meddle into that. She had found and brought the stranger, she would face the consequences too. The Trapper remembered how she cried after her pet goose, when it learned to fly with her help and then got shot by another hunter. He wished his daughter would had already learned not to pick up things she found in the wilderness.

Too soon everyone was ready to go. "I'll settle near the station after the town, then maybe try the Valley again" the Trapper informed his daughter who was depressed. He exhaled and Birch frowned. "I'll come," she promised. The Trapper felt bad. She was his daughter after all. Although she needed to learn on her own, he wanted to tell her what to do in order to avoid disappointments. Not all of them, but some. He didn't like that the stranger was still around, on the horse but for some reason not leaving yet.
"...You did nothing wrong," the old man whispered and fixed the hat on Birch's head. He went to his horse. He halt for a moment as she said back to him: "Be careful."
Smiling he waved and got onto his horse, giving one last glance at the two before leaving.

Birch too was curious why Charles hadn't left already. She tried not to have hope. If he was done with her, then that's okay. She didn't mind to be used, if she offered and had felt less lonely for a moment. He had needed help and she had given it. She was happy he was alive after near death. So she smiled at Charles and went to get on Stumpy. Guess she would get back to Annesburg, or at that direction at least. She could visit the Grizzlies East. It was a dangerous area because of steep cliffs and difficult mountain passes. But because of that danger there was animals with high quality pelts, that could fetch a nice coin at Saint Denis. Sounded like a plan to her.

Charles had been surprised that Birch had smiled at him. Even though she was clearly confused and hurt because of his sudden coldness. It made things more difficult for him.
"You left not-" she coughed a little: "Not yet?"
He opened his mouth and then closed it. Then said while turning Taima: "We're going to the same direction, anyway." It was an excuse and he knew it. Birch only seemed more confused before slowly nodding. Maybe he wanted to make sure she got out of the region without a trouble. Maybe he knew it was better for safety to go together. Maybe... He wanted to spent a little bit more time with her, before departing. He knew he should go on his own, let them both leave this behind them.

Charles was, or tried to be, a selfless man who wished to live peacefully without hurting others. And yet, he had to use violence now and then. He had to steal things again and again. It wasn't what he wanted but he had to.

Was it bad, if he wanted to be a little selfish when he finally found some good luck in his usually luckless life?