Wyatt had always been a man of movement, a seeker of horizons. He'd thought maybe, with Dora, he'd been ready to settle,... but apparently the good Lord had seen otherwise, for one reason or another.

He couldn't necessary say he agreed with it, but it might have been worse.

"Oh," Wyatt's head pulled back, nodding, even as he grinned, eyes flashing. "Ain't that a fine thing - traded for a horse an' a bit of chewed up leather, I see what I'm worth to ya."

Another piece of biscuit disappeared into his mouth, held between his back teeth for sucking on.

"See if I bring you lunch again."

At least he had a friend to face the unknown with.

(And what more could a man really ask for?)