"It fits me." As if that was that, as if that was enough to justify it without a second thought. He tried it on once; it fit. Simple as that. It wasn't that he was unaware of the white hat vs black hat dichotomy, only that he refused to apply it to himself. Refused to consider what it meant. Where he might really fall. Why the hat he wore might be wrong.

But no matter what side of the line he was on, it wasn't his practice to fight women. He wasn't Wynonna's enemy, regardless of how wound up and blood ready they both were, and he stops just outside arm's reach.

"Not enough of it to be somethin' to be worried about." He'd already taken some damage, was going to have to stitch himself up when this was all over, but it wasn't life threatening. Wasn't deep enough to be real trouble.

"I was ready when these bastards decided to attack. Lookin' for the leader, break their spirit, send what few brain cells they got back into the tree line. You headin' somewhere specific or free rangin'?"