Jesse took a drag of his smoke, tilting his head back and blowing up into the clear sky. Bourbon, the darling horse he was on top of, shifted with a light huff. "Ease, girl. Don't ya get huffy with me." Jesse drawled, giving her head a firm pat and head scratch before dismounting. "I ain't one to take no lip, yeh lucky I like ya. Sometimes." Jesse snickered as Bourbon let out a snort, shaking her head. Casting a final, cheeky grin as his fine stead as he gathered one of the sacks of supplies from her saddle, Jesse turned towards the camp. Adjusting his hat to it firmly covered his eyes from the sun, he stepped forward. Brutus Caine, the old man, was by his kid, yappin something to the younglin. Talking about younglin in the camp, where the fuck is the kid? That pup better have been helping around the camp while he was getting supplies in the nearest town. "Hey! Ya damn shit, come here and help ya brother with the damn supplies!" Jesse yelled out, drawing glances and chuckles from the other gang members.