{It is night. Dolly is roughed up, clothes bloodied, skin roughed up. Their clothes are ripped, hat long gone. They lean over the railing of their balcony window.}
{They notice a black bird watching them.}
..The hell are you lookin at?
{Dollys voice is much lower. Rougher.}
..oh, it doesnt matter. You might wanna fly away soon, little birdie.
{Cal pulls out the gun he had Dolly trade for. He taps the muzzle to his head.}
I'm gonna put myself at peace tonight. I don't think you want to hear my final words, bud.
@merchant-offical

















