Good. We try to keep casualties to a minimum, and try to keep innocent lives out of the equation. Though, when it's a matter of them or us... [He lets the thought trail off like his hand does, moving away from her shoulder, letting his fingertips linger a moment, and he finds a chair to settle down in, pulling one leg up to hook his ankle up over his knee. He's still appraising her, and probably would be doing that for a while. Faith is a riddle, and he so enjoys riddles.]
Some of them would balk at hittin' a lady, but most would relish the idea of throwin' their weight around. Personally, I'd be entertained to see Bill knocked on his ass. He's big, he's strong and proud, but he's about as intelligent as a pound of ground chuck. You probably saw him at the bar last night. The nasal, bearded one tryin' to pick a fight with that pockmarked feller at the bar.
[He can imagine it, too; Faith, all thin frame, self-confidence and unassuming, taking down the giant wall of man. Bill won't know what to do with himself. The men will all line up to test their mettle, and he's certain most would lose. Not his best boys, though. They wouldn't dare test themselves, they'd never question Dutch's eye for things, and wouldn't question that she's able to keep up with them.
And yet, Faith is still so vulnerable. Vulnerable in the way all that he takes in are. Lost adrift in streams of society, trying to swim upstream. They all came to him, tired of fighting alone, tired of feeling the cold shoulders of all that passed them. In their way, Dutch and his crew are, every one of them, glad for the company of misfits like themselves. They're a wolf pack made of outcasts from other packs.
And she seems just the type. She is the whole package. His expectations are high for her, but he has a feeling that she's the kind to exceed those. And he's not too sure why, but he feels that she's just the kind of challenge he's been looking for in other ways, as well.]
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Some of them would balk at hittin' a lady, but most would relish the idea of throwin' their weight around. Personally, I'd be entertained to see Bill knocked on his ass. He's big, he's strong and proud, but he's about as intelligent as a pound of ground chuck. You probably saw him at the bar last night. The nasal, bearded one tryin' to pick a fight with that pockmarked feller at the bar.
[He can imagine it, too; Faith, all thin frame, self-confidence and unassuming, taking down the giant wall of man. Bill won't know what to do with himself. The men will all line up to test their mettle, and he's certain most would lose. Not his best boys, though. They wouldn't dare test themselves, they'd never question Dutch's eye for things, and wouldn't question that she's able to keep up with them.
And yet, Faith is still so vulnerable. Vulnerable in the way all that he takes in are. Lost adrift in streams of society, trying to swim upstream. They all came to him, tired of fighting alone, tired of feeling the cold shoulders of all that passed them. In their way, Dutch and his crew are, every one of them, glad for the company of misfits like themselves. They're a wolf pack made of outcasts from other packs.
And she seems just the type. She is the whole package. His expectations are high for her, but he has a feeling that she's the kind to exceed those. And he's not too sure why, but he feels that she's just the kind of challenge he's been looking for in other ways, as well.]