Whitefish River and the bargain must be made

The light glints off of the stranger's silver coat, warming it a touch, and gathering his attention. She's attractive at first glance; rugged, a little bit forlorn, as if her mind is heavy with thoughts. Young. The perfect target for Firefly's charm - but no such charm rises to the occasion. He doesn't immediately see her as a target in spite of his inherent nature. He sees that sadness in her, and that seems to sway him away from his usual tactics. That, or maybe he's lost his taste for women - but Firefly won't let himself entertain that sort of thought.

He doesn't approach her. Instead he settles along the embankment, reclining to his haunches. It occurs to him that she might've been hiding there for a reason, but it isn't in his nature to apologize - especially to a woman. So he remarks in a casual, if a bit rough, voice: Kinda unfair to hide that pretty face, and internally he feels himself face-palm for the shitty line. Oh well, he's out of practice - can't fault him for trying to brighten her day.