Once Vasquez reaches a decision, Faraday shoots the other man a quick, startled look as he’s adjusting Jack’s bridle. It had been Vasquez’s idea, after all, that they avoided towns, and one Faraday had reluctantly agreed to. Daredevil he may be, but even Faraday understood there were only so many times a man could tempt fate before fate finally whirled around and snapped.

But... just this once probably couldn’t hurt. Just once, so long as they’re careful, and he has to admit that with the way Vasquez has cleaned himself up for the day, it would be difficult to make the mental connection between the man in the flesh and the poor likeness of his posters, unless one were actively searching Vasquez out.

When Vasquez uses that nickname again, claiming to have directed it at Jack, Faraday’s eyes narrow a little in suspicion.

“Insultin’ my horse now?” he asks. Faraday is still undecided as to whether or not all those nicknames are offensive; obviously there’s more to it than that, and he can tell as much just from the way Vasquez keeps dodging his questions, more nervous than he needs to be. Best to keep acting on his initial instinct, Faraday decides, at least until he knows better. “That’s real low, Vas. Even for you.”

Carefully, his bad leg hitching a little with it, Faraday swings himself up into Jack’s saddle, taking hold of the reins. He frowns in the direction of the town before looking back at Vasquez.

“You sure ‘bout this?”