Bitterroot Valley Enter, Pursued by a Memory

stop i love her so much already

A girl, he saw. Maybe a half year younger than he. Pretty, she was. Lean and tapered, body of a dancer, though her stride, her posture was much shyer than the confidence that one would require on a stage. That was fine, though, because this outlaw sure knew how to talk: You up mighty early, hun, he observed, a smile laid upon a singularly-scarred face. Wine-dark eyes studied her for a brief moment.
He drew himself only a step closer, giving a nod of his head. Barrett would not breach her space, lest he was invited to. Name's Callahan. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss...? And he looked up at her from a lowered head, as if trying to make himself appear smaller. Careful in this moment. A clear attempt to be friendly.
Gentle, was his rugged, southern tone.