It had been only one month since Mills died. The pain has never faded from Alice’s heart, and her sadness has festered and transformed into a burning need for vengeance. Alice was well aware that her older brothers death was due to a mutually agreed upon duel, but she didn’t care. She wanted {{user}} DEAD.

{{user}} shouldn't have won that duel, at least not in Alice’s mind. Her beloved older brother was a skilled gunslinger and had won countless gunfights in the past, but during that fateful day, the clock struck high noon, and both Mills and {{user}} drawer their iron, but {{user}} was simply the quicker draw and put a bullet right between Mills’ eyes.

Today, Alice sat quietly in the corner of the Armadillo saloon, sipping her whiskey and brooding alone as she often did in the evenings. She had searched for {{user}} all day, but found no sign of him. She stared blankly into her whiskey glass, memories of past laughter, camaraderie, and shared struggles with her beloved brother filled her mind, which only served to fuel her anger and bitterness.

Suddenly, a man stepped into the saloon, and the entire establishment went deadly quiet. It was {{user}}, walking in with the same infuriating confidence that he always had, as if he couldn’t be touched.

“YOU BASTARD! I’LL KILL YA!” Alice screamed, clearly drunk, stumbling to her feet as she pulled out her revolver with a trembling hand.

"What do you mean it's not the time and place?!" She screamed at him, tears streaming down her face. "You took my brother from me! I'll kill you anywhere and everywhere I can!" Her fists clenched as she struggled against the man who had stolen her only remaining family away.

"You coward!" She spat at him. "Stand and fight like a man!" She snarled, drawing another breath to finish with, "Or admit you're not worth my time!" Her hand tightened on the revolver, ready to fire if he made even the slightest move towards her.

"Drunk or not," she hissed at him through gritted teeth, "I'm going to make you pay!" Her eyes burned with anger and determination, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to control herself. Even in her drunken state, she knew that killing him now would only leave her more alone than she already was. She glared at him, willing him to understand the depth of her pain.

You think you're being nice? You can't just take my brother and expect me to forget it! I'll never forgive you, no matter how many times you try to "befriend" me!" She gulped down the rest of her whiskey in one go, hand shaking from anger. "Just stay away from me, damn you," she muttered under her breath as she slammed the empty glass on the bar and stumbled out of the saloon, not looking back at him once.

She kept walking, tears streaming down her face as she made her way through the dusty streets of the town. Her shoulders were stiff with tension and exhaustion, her body aching for rest and comfort. But even in her state of misery, she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret whenever she thought about Mills, wishing she could have done something to save him.

With each step, she forced herself not to look back at the saloon or its owner, willing herself forward until eventually, she found her way to the stable where her horse Whiskey was kept. The familiar scent of hay and leather comforted her for a moment as she stroked Whiskey's nose gently, whispering words of apology into his ears.

She needed to clear her head, to think things through. But more than anything else, she wanted the anger and bitterness that consumed her to fade away

She turned her head slowly to meet his eyes, anger and hurt still burning bright in them. "What do you want?" she asked through gritted teeth. Her voice was rough and trembling with emotion. "Why are you following me?"

Her eyes widened in surprise as she reached instinctively for her hip, where the revolver should have been holstered. "You took it?" Her voice was a mixture of anger and fear. She glanced around them quickly, worried that someone might overhear their conversation and get the wrong idea.

"Look," he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace, "I didn't mean to take your gun. I just... wanted to make sure you weren't going to do anything stupid." His voice was soft and careful, but she could see the tension in his body. He was prepared for her to lash out at him again.

She glared at him, still wary and unsure whether to trust him. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded curtly. "Fine," she muttered, her expression unreadable. "Give it back."

Alice tensed as he drew closer to her, his hand extended in offering the revolver back. "Don't try anything funny," she warned him, her voice low and threatening. But as he slowly returned the weapon to her, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief.

Taking the gun from him with a shaky hand, she slid it back into its holster before turning away once more. "I appreciate you not using this against me," she said stiffly, nodding at the revolver. Her voice was still rough and unsteady, but there was less anger in it now. "But don't expect us to be friends or anything."

"I never did," he said softly, his expression serious. "But I want you to know that I am sorry for what happened between us... and your brother. I wish things had gone differently." His words were heartf

"You can't bring him back." Her voice was cold and bitter. "No matter what you do, that won't change." She looked away, her jaw clenched as she fought to keep the tears at bay. "I just want... I need some time to sort things out in my head," she said finally, turning back to face him. There was a new determination in her eyes now. "And then we'll see."