With a set of pinioned limbs Finn glanced up to the sky above, the ground below and the onlookers across like some sort of backwards trinity. Among the muddle of faces he saw a generous mix – unbridled anger from men he'd likely crossed at some point, wide-eyed terror from the women who stood by their husbands and beguiled children while a much shorter bunch hopped and stood on their toes in hopes to catch a glance up to the gallows. Others tugged themselves and their families along with uneasy stomachs. It certainly was a show of rounding him up from his cell down the hanging station, the rickety gallows that stood tall and impending. The wooden boards of the structure groaned the history of men who'd committed more atrocious deeds.

Appointed to the scene, a priest. Much to the humor of the hanging judge, expressed in a rolling amble for a laugh, he waited until the young man showed himself to proceed. A holy man as witness to a hanging? For what cause? His portly frame shook at the notion. There was only one direction this man was headed and it was nowhere hospitable. With the subject of a priest's presence, he had one thing to say:

"Priest, huh? A priest comes to serve for one reason. 'ta give these people a sense of justif'cation for watching this like a sport. You may be a man of God, but we're the ones doin' the Lord's work here." he grunted to Father Eli, who seemed more of a 'brother' with that gangly frame of his. The larger man, Hiram Tucker, straightened his frame and hauled himself slowly up each step. The murmur of the people rose to a hum before dying down when Tucker turned to face the crowd. The list of offenses were chanted like a roll call, with each one said and the noose secured snugly around his speckled neck he grew more and more antsy. Part of him wished he'd looted more, stole more, held a man up just one more time for a single fleeting moment. For his end to be delayed. It was a petty and desperate thought, and while Finn didn't show much shame as was hoped for he was certainly uncomfortable where he stood. So much for dying on his own terms and narrowly slipping through the fingers of the law. Strange, he always figured it'd be a reckless stunt involving a bit more liquor than his system needed. But life was packed with surprises, this he wasn't a stranger to, and death wasn't exempt from that truth either. Finn hardly noticed when his executioners had wrapped it up if it wasn't for one of them stepping forward and tightening the rope once more. Even gave the knot a good shake as a farewell.

"Fit nicely?" The man asked, but Finn didn't detect any trace of sincerity.

"'s itchy." Finn mumbled back with an honest shrug which wasn't taken too kindly on account of the wicked sneer he got back. He took in a heavy breath and was jolted forward to the trap, his eyes searched for the black-clad man with the Holy Book and grinned ear-to-ear once he'd been called up.

"A priest here just for me? Shit, aren't you a ticket straight to heaven."

"Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name..."

Elijah Cassidy was praying, his full lips moving as he recited the Lord's Prayer. His head tilted upwards, pale hands clasped together in a mixture of hope laced with fear. He was to go West, away from his adopted father and the place where he had grown up in. The place where he had found his savior. While he was happy that he was ordained to priesthood, Eli couldn't help but recall the nasty rumors about the western lands. It seemed as though the wild free region would never be tamed. However, it was his duty, no, he wanted to spread the word to every poor soul out there. Like how God saved him, Eli was determined to save even the worst criminals.

---

'Hot' was the first word that crossed Eli's mind. The sun's rays scorched his light skin and he felt faint with every step he took. He already longed for the cool days back in Massachusetts. Despite the heat, Eli still donned his black clerical clothes and stepped outside, a worn Bible clutched in his hands. It had only been a mere two days before he was to be a witness to a hanging. Back in Massachusetts, there were several public hangings but Eli never took part of it. He just couldn't bear to watch someone die, even if that someone had committed atrocious crimes.

The judge seemed amused when Eli arrived, stating that he and the executioners were undoubtedly doing the Lord's work. Those words seemed to fly through him, however, as the priest's eyes were on the criminal. A large man stepped up the structure, turning to face the crowd as he began to list out the man's crimes. Certainly a long list, but Eli took no mind to that. Instead, his stomach lurched as he watched the noose being tightened around the man's neck. The executioner pushed the man toward the trap and - Oh Lord. The man who was about to die looked straight at Eli, acknowledging the priest's presence.

He was definitely going to pass out. A man's life was going to end right in front of him. The townsfolk didn't seem to pity the poor man. Didn't the Holy Bible speak of love for all of God's creation? That their Lord was merciful and gracious...

"Wait," he muttered, his mouth suddenly going dry. His adopted father has always told him to follow his heart. Perhaps the Lord would agree with his decision to help the convict... "Wait!" He called out louder, drawing the peoples attention. "You can't do this -"

The judge cut the priest off rather rudely. "Finn Casey broke the law -"

And Eli continued on as if the Judge had never spoken up. "I realize that Finn Casey is a criminal and does deserve to be hanged," he began, his voice ringing clear. "But Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself. Give Finn Casey a chance to change for the better." Eli paused, his thoughts jumbling in his mind. He asked himself the same question the others were probably thinking right now: "Exactly how will Finn Casey change?"

"I will take in Finn Casey and teach him to become a law-abiding citizen as well as a follower of God. I promise you that he will be a different man if you allow him to live just this once. Have faith!"

Eli's little speech responded well among the more immediate crowd. Some empowered nods, a few unsure glances. For the most part, the young priest's words resounded with enough power despite having little sway over the judge. From the crowd it was unsurprisingly predictable coming from a priest with so much fire in his soul and spark in his walk. He had a number of these folks soaking up his message like a sponge what with how they leaned on his every word. A bit preachy for Tucker, but then again law and church were bound to rub raw eventually.

"He knows best- Let Father show us the Lord's work!" One woman cheered aloud. Two gloved hands reached forward to the stand, her efforts rejected and blocked by a ground-level officer. Finn's head bobbled, nodding against the chafe of the noose. Sparking more nods of agreement, their judge and proctor had no choice but to hear what his people and the frail priest rallied for. It humored him to say the least, but it was also a frightening effort.

"Said it himself! Jesus loves me just the same-" Finn chimed in, matter-of-factly, but was soon cut off when the executioner jolted the rope to silence him. The reminder that Finn had no place to speak followed angrily.

"You're tellin' me you'll adopt this sorry son'va bitch and transform him into an honest man? Oh, I am a man of faith, Father. But I'm not the convicted one here." He nearly burst at idea of it, but with the crowd's turn of their cheeks he checked himself not to laugh. Perhaps their Little Priest was not aware of the severity of his crimes? Truly even the most humble and righteous of men would rather see a man hanged than to accept such a burdensome task. Tucker challenged him. "Casey is a thief, a liar, and a killer. He's been wanted by our county for years and you want me to hand him over to you? What hope can there be left for such a wretched soul?"

To simply hand Casey over to Father Cassidy was ludicrous... and all the while tempting. As much as Tucker wanted to see the redhead dancing on the end of a rope that afternoon, he was also the sort to push a bet. If somehow Casey was placed into Father's custody and made the slightest mistake, not only would Casey swing but Cassidy a fool for so much as trying to tame a single wiry hair on Finn's head. Then again, he did go through the trouble of arranging an execution...

Pawing at the gruffness of his greying beard and a conflicted sigh, he dropped all hypothetical and looked Eli straight in the eyes. "Convince me, Father, because I don't think you understand the weight of your request."

Similar to the crowds back at home, the townsfolk received Eli’s message well. A woman had even attempted to reach the structure, only to be pushed back by the officer there. As the people started to voice their agreement, the priest moved up closer to the stand. He laid his hand on the woman's shoulder, a smile on his face as he nodded at her. "God is surely watching," he solemnly said to her. And in his heart, Eli hoped he was.

Eli grit his teeth as Tucker began to talk. The other mans words were true - Finn Casey committed many horrendous crimes over the past years. Yet Eli truly believed that anyone, even the most wretched, could change if they were willing. Perhaps he was being a bit too hopeful...He could already hear his old man's voice in his head, pleading him to stop whatever foolish thing Eli got himself into. He couldn't, however. The ball was already gathering momentum; nothing could stop it.

Closing his eyes, Eli swiftly prayed for a blessing and added in a soft apology to his adopted father. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the Holy Book, unwavering eyes staring straight back at Tucker.

"All I'm asking is for you to give a man a second chance. He's a vile man, yes, but he hasn't yet to experience the true love of God. You don't need to completely trust or forgive Finn Casey, but at least let him have the opportunity to repent and earn his life... If he breaks the law again, I'll personally bring him in," Eli promised, breaking off as he made his way up the steps without any resistance.

"I am also a changed man," he proceeded, his voice trembling just the slightest as he remembered his rough childhood. "There is no other person who knows better than me how the Lord's words can heal. Tucker, I understand the gravity of my request. But I am willing to die for Casey like how Jesus died for our sins." The crowds cries and cheers were drowned out by the sound of Eli's heart pounding in his ears. He slowly made his way towards Casey, bending down to kneel in front of the convict. Cloudy blue eyes gazed at the man's face for a brief moment before flickering downward. Bringing the Holy Book close to his chest, Eli prayed for both of their sorry souls.

So, this little priest was headstrong about his plea? To take a wanted felon into his mission and train him to be a servant of God? It was a long shot to say the least and an even crazier assignment even for such a devout man. But with the flames of determination that rose from Father Eli, the blaze of trust and hope that he'd set upon the crowd, or at least the more optimistic of the bunch, it was almost as if God Himself spoke through the lips of such a small man. The Judge parted his stare between Eli and the criminal, the gears of his mind cranking in thought. Despite Eli's passionate show, he put little stock into any outcome of Finn Casey repenting to any sort of god above them. But with the crowd in favor of Eli and the grand display of faith that one day it was possible to salvage even the most treacherous of souls, he could practically hear his own voice withering down into nothing.

And as Eli fell down upon his knees before sin itself, Tucker groaned. The trap had been activated and he found himself in no position against the people. His people. One motion and Finn was freed from the clutch of the noose around his neck, his feet were unbounded and he was once again lurched around like a dog on a leash. Back and away from the kneeling priest, he wobbled in an uneven stance, his eyes wide and wild and his smile even more so. Truly, he was the first ever man to have purposely spared his life. Finn wasn't sure if he was a fool, a lunatic, or a crossbreed between the two. He nearly jumped and danced of joy if it wasn't for the two officers clutching both of his upper arms and practically serving as a set of legs and holding him upright. But even these men could not contain the feral howl that escaped him as he was taken.

“Father, you best keep to your word,” griped the Judge. Already did the regret of his decision cross his face. But it was too late. He gave the order to have Casey freed under his rule and more or less shoved into the clasped hands of this priest. Whether he wanted the criminal to succumb to crime again or an undisturbed town Tucker couldn't be entirely sure. He wanted Casey to swing like the pendulum of a grandfather clock and if it weren't for Eli he would've had it his way. Surely he would appear to be a man weak of faith in the Lord to deny the priest's request, and for that reason alone was Finn Casey still breathing. “He is in your custody from here 'n onward. If the idea so much as crosses his mind of leaving your sight and terrorizing a single soul of this town – I'll break code and come to shoot him down myself. Keep him in check, or everyone will suffer from this agreement.” This Tucker swore. He didn't need an oath or a word of promise to show Eli that he was true to his word.

Finn fumbled down the steps, his hands still bound and his arms held close against his ribs. Along with what few belongings that had been confiscated from him, save the pistol, blade and smokes, he was released into Eli's care. He was to be regrettably delivered, free from the metal clasping his wrists, to the small mission and Finn's new home. With Finn came a set of strict rules for Eli to enforce: sobriety, each day a lesson of the Word of Jesus Christ from the Holy Book itself, daily confession, and for the rowdy bastard to comb his hair on a regular basis. 'He's still in my range of control, Father. If I have any reason to send him straight back here I won't hesitate to do so along with a formal apology from a certain priest,' the Judge spoke to Eli once the crowds began to disband, Finn out of sight from the two prominent men. 'Disappoint this town and it reflects upon me. I'll be watching.'

He knelt there for what seemed like hours, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of the trap-door opening and strangled choking. For the first time in a long time, Eli felt the tendrils of fear wrapping around him. Surely the Judge would ignore his plea. After all, he was a priest who had just arrived in this town a mere two days ago. He held no political power, only the knowledge of God. However, the orders of execution never came. Eli's eyes fluttered open only to shut close, the suns rays striking him. Bringing his right hand to block the sunlight, his squinted eyes managed to witness the scene unfolding before him.

Finn Casey was being released from his bindings. Whether it was some stroke of luck or God's way of approving Eli's choice; the priest was filled with relief. His words had somehow swayed the public's opinion to his favor. Eli could make out a smile on the Finn's face as he was being held up by two officers by his side. Eli could feel his own lips twitching up into a smile before a feral cry reached his ears. He felt himself freeze in surprise, if not fear. It was a howl akin to the ones he had so frequently heard in his memories. Swallowing, the priest staggered to his feet, the Holy Book still clutched at his chest.

Eli glanced at the two men, nodding. "Of course," he simply responded. There was no doubt that the Judge and Tucker would be watching his every move like vultures patiently waiting for a wounded animal to die. As the officers led Finn Casey down the steps and to Eli's humble home, the crowds slowly began to dissipate. It was likely that the news of a young priest who had intervened in a murderer's execution would spread like wildfire.

Muttering a quick prayer of blessing to the two men, Eli made his way down the steps and towards his home, no, Eli's and Casey's new home.

---

Within a few moments, Eli arrived at the rather old weatherboard house. The paint was peeling, the porch foundations needed to be repaired, and the floor creaked and moaned under the four men's weight. However, it was spacious enough for a four-person family to comfortably live in. Eli didn't know who the previous occupants were, but he was certainly grateful for the opportunity to live here instead of a sod house. There was a living room that could also serve as a dining room, a kitchen, and two closets in the first floor. Upstairs, there were two bedrooms and a bathroom.

The officers dumped Finn Casey on the floor before taking their leave, both saying their farewells to the priest before taking their leave. Eli said his thanks before turning his attention to the tied convict. He blinked a few times before exhaling, bending down to untie Finn. Occasionally, he would rub the sun-burnt skin around his neck area. Less than thirty minutes out in the sun and he was already suffering. Eli frowned as he attempted to weave his way through the many knots before striking up a conversation with Finn.

"Well, there are going to be rules here Finn. First, you are by no means allowed to break another law or the Judge'll have my hide. No drinking, no cursing, and no women. I'll teach you the Lord's words and you'll have daily confessions as well. If you're illiterate, I can help you learn and..." Eli licked his lips in thought before continuing on. "Well, you'll have to do something with your appearance. Cut your hair, or at last comb it, and take a bath." He finally undid the ropes, releasing Finn. "Any questions?"

Finn was in a state of utter disbelief that the Judge had allowed him his life. Part of him scorned the round fool that today wasn't his final one. The other part of him rejoiced that he'd live to see many, many more. Being pawned off to a simple priest in exchange for a weak promise of his salvation wasn't a sound investment, but if it meant a warm bed and a hot meal until he could round up means to jump town then he'd take it over a dirty cell any day. As soon as he was released into Eli's home, his head perked up like a new dog, scanning the area almost as if he'd chosen the space and was congratulating himself for landing a house of decent value. Worn and broken in, but a nice one just the same and better than he could ever afford on his own. Oddly, if you sliced the top floor off and was left with the bottom it could almost pass for his old family home. Deciding that he liked what he saw, an indolent smile crept on his face.

But the smile didn't last as long as he would've liked. With the Judge's rules, his face couldn't help but fall into what could only be described as a child's pout. His light brows furrowed close together, his lips pressed close as if he were deep in thought. No drinking? No cursing? No women... Essentially, a life of abstinence, prayer and good deeds was expected of him. Well, Finn never was good with rules. As soon as the clasps on his wrists were free and once again he was a free man he stood tall over Eli, inspecting the smaller man like a falcon looming over a desert mouse before the first swoop. He certainly didn't have much on him, nor was he the tallest, but to make someone like Finn seem more nourished and filled out he didn't think was possible. A life of servitude to the Lord and a flighty disposition must have been the cause if even a beanpole like Finn towered him. The criminal found it funny but withheld his comments. Instead he stood impossibly close that he wouldn't be surprised if Eli could hear his every breath.

“Daily confessions?” Finn exhaled a deep laugh through his nose. His eyes bore down on the priest. “You'll have me all run outta sin keepin' me cooped up here you won't have nothing to send up to God. No women, no drinkin'... I thought you were a good man, Father. That's just straight torture.”

Then, Finn took the liberty to explore his new home freely. He ambled slowly around Eli, rounding him as the number of rules floated around his mind. No doubt Tucker would have his men scouting around Eli's home for a scrap of evidence that he'd violated this new probation of sorts. If he left tonight or even this week, no gun and no means of travel he would surely die at the feet of the law. He'd wait; it would just take him a bit of time. For now he might as well have a bit of fun. And what better way than with a holy man of the Lord?

“That judge,” he went on with a flicker of his eyes downward and curled-up lips, “-'s a cock-suckin' son'va bitch. He can shovel shit for a livin' if he wasn't already doin' it now.”

Finn Casey was tall. So much more taller that Eli had to tilt his head upwards to look at the man's face. Even then, he still felt like a minuscule, insignificant bug. He studied the other's foxish features and his blue-green eyes that were laced with amusement. Eli then realized that Finn could easily harm him, even kill him... "See, what did I tell you Elijah? You made a mistake and now you'll regret it for sure." His father's voice floated in his mind, but was it actually what his dear father would say?

The two were so close together that Eli could hear the others breath. He wanted to step back a few times, to distance himself from such a strange creature but he couldn't. His feet were hopelessly glued to the floor in a mixture of awe and fear. Finn then began to question the rules Eli had set for him; saying that it was 'pure torture'. The priest lowered his gaze to the floor as Finn revolved, no, stalked around him. His hooded eye-lids hid the unmistakable flickers of dread. Oh Lord, the Judge and Tucker were going to find his battered corpse tomorrow morning. Eli's heart rate quickened as he thought about running away before it was too late.

Until Finn Casey decided to break rule number three.

Honestly, Eli had no idea what a cock was, he'd have to ask someone later, but he did know what s-o-n o-f a b-i-t-c-h meant. He had heard that phrase from an elderly man when he was a child during mass and his father had told explicitly told Eli to never ever say that because it was a curse word and curses were poison. Eli snapped his head back up to defiantly glare at Finn, his lips pursed into a thin line. The fear that festered inside of him seemed to have fled, replaced by a spark of annoyance and anger.

"Finn Casey, you just broke a rule that I told you not to break a minute ago. You should know better than that. Your life is in my hands son, so it'd be in your best interests to listen to me," he said. Eli began to tremble like a leaf, the frustration piling up into a huge head-ache. "I'm sure there are better things to do than indulge in such...indecencies. Maybe you should start by cleaning up," he managed out before graciously stepping back. He went to a corner, near the kitchen, before falling to his knees to pray. Whatever Finn was to say to him next, Eli would ignore it till he felt better.

The cackle of a laugh that sounded when Finn was called 'son' rattled his frame, unlike Eli who shook in plain fear. He couldn't be bothered to feel an ounce of annoyance at the smaller man when it bettered him to get his laughs out of it. The poor thing looked as though he'd topple over at the softest spook. As much as Finn would have loved to see the young priest's eyes roll back in his head he figured he'd always have the chance later on. For now, he was too busy exploring the humble house to turn Eli more pale than he already was.

He fingered and prodded at what few accessories decorated the place. A simple design, with modest furnishing and everything a priest would need to go about a simple life. Definitely more than Finn could manage alone. He'd spent a good number of his nights passed out in barns bale sheds of strange farmers between towns and bathed in the cold water of the lakes. He slept little and ate even less, but it was a life he chose and not once found reason to complain. He was free. Well, he was half-free at the moment, but he had his life and so long as it wasn't Tucker huffing over his shoulder until he found a chance to escape then he would survive.

The little priest was busy by the time Finn bothered to find him again. He was knelt down in the corner in fervorous prayer as though Eli were the one who had spouted off curses. In all honestly he didn't pay much attention to his scolding, his eyes wandering around the house elsewhere despite a few humored huffs here and there.

"And how're you expectin' that to happen? I can't remember the last time I bathed proper..." Finn didn't seem too concerned with the fact. He never did mind his ratty hair, the way the dust settled on his skin and in his clothing. Sometimes, he couldn't tell the difference between the freckles on his forearms and days-old dirt. Rain was another luxury. Not the blustery, violent kind of Kansas storm that had you crawling for shelter but the gentle showers come early summer.

Eventually he learned his way around the lower level of the house, each room, closet and pantry. A house built for more but so far it seemed that Eli was the only resident. When he returned, he leaned his tired body against the edge of the tabletop, shucking the boots off of his feet with his heels.

"Your kind doesn't take on women anyway, huh?" He asked, followed by a stretch and a grunt.

"Oh Lord, please guide me during my darkest times..."

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to block out Finn's presence for now. He would attempt to convert the rowdy man when he was more calm. Eli's hands were grasped together so tightly that he could feel his blood circulation cutting off. His knees ached after what had happened at the gallows. His poor skin was red and slightly blistered as well, only adding to the many discomforts Eli was dealing with. He also couldn't stand the heat...Would he really have to live like this until his mission was done? Eli longed to limp back to his room and sleep, dreaming of home. However, he couldn't. Not yet...

"Help me keep calm..." Despite being a priest, Eli was actually an angry little thing. Fortunately, praying seemed to help him deal with the stress. "Look over my father..." He paused, his eyebrows scrunched together. "And bless Finn Casey too," he quickly added. Exhaling, Eli slowly got up to his feet and blinked a few times before facing Finn.

"Your kind doesn't take on women anyway, huh?" He said.

So much for keeping calm. The priest's pale face instantly turned a scarlet red as he frowned. "Of course we don't," he answered uneasily. "I mean, yes we can but..." He trailed off, not even sure if what he was saying was truth or not. His father hadn't told him anything about marriage. Only about the sins of lusting after a woman. "I-I'm not sure," he mumbled, placing his hand over his forehead.

Finn stole glances of the kneeling priest. How his head bowed and his hands clasped in prayer as if God Himself was standing over him. His knuckles so white to the point that Finn half expected them to pop clean off of his hands if he hadn't finished his prayer and stood from the hard floor. The man probably did that throughout the day based on his little pattern today. It seemed every time his soul was disturbed he was falling to the ground in hopes that God would rescue him from whatever horrendous plight fell upon him. It was strange to Finn but all the while amusing, and perhaps if he stayed longer than originally intended he could make a game of 'black-and-blue' with the poor priest's knees. Seems that he was off on a good start.

But by now Finn was all smiles. Even a pinch of amused sympathy for the smaller one when he finally stood. He looked terribly exhausted, even more so than a man about to be hanged. With a sun-red face that soon deepened in color, a tired posture and a wavering voice, Finn predicted that Eli would topple over in both frustration, exhaustion and embarrassment at the slightest gust of breeze. He gave Eli the 'once-over' with his eyes in a much less daunting manner, his shoulders jumping once as he exhaled another chuckle and his long arms folded over his chest in a way that showed Eli that if he didn't mean any harm before, he certainly wouldn't now aside from a good laugh. When Eli soon demonstrated all the tell-tale signs of a classic virgin things got much more amusing for the orange-haired fiend.

He threw up his arms at chest level, waving his hands as if to stop Eli in his tracks. With a shake of his head, his thin eyes pinched shut and a tight smile, he couldn't help but withhold the other from burying himself alive in his own fluster. If he expected any company at all or the chance of eating later on it wouldn't be wise to have the man toppling over and unconscious from his lewdness. Not yet, at least. “I'm talkin' about marriage 'n you're lookin' like your soul just jumped out of your body. Well, I'm gonna feel mighty sorry for you when it comes time for me to confess."

The sentiment seemed as honest as it could be for someone like Finn. Pushing himself away from the table and moving past Eli to scout out more of the kitchen, he threw a firm pat against Eli's back. "Boy, it doesn't take much to wind you up. I sure got lucky."

He was definitely going to collapse. Eli's vision wavered and he was sure that he was going to be killed while unconscious. After all, he wouldn't put up much of a fight if he was out. But then again, Finn could easily overtake him. Eli was small and frail, two things he didn't want to be right now. His soul would go to Heaven and then he would surely regret saving Finn Casey in the first place. What in the world possessed him? Was he that certain he could convert this man? He was being too prideful of his skills. Eli would have to pray for forgiveness later.

While he was downright frightened of the criminal, he was more uncomfortable about how...open Finn was with that sort of stuff. And when Finn mentioned his confessions, the priest began to tremble again. He had dealt with his fair share of off people back in Massachusetts but he was sure no one had murdered anyone. The people who suffered from lust often went to his father for advice and confessions, since he was too young. The convict began to wave his hands, shaking his head as his lips were pulled into a tight smile. He seemed amused after witnessing Eli's reaction.

The man pushed himself off the table, throwing a firm pat against Eli's back. The priest stumbled forward from the impact, wincing as he straightened himself out. Finn had mentioned he had gotten lucky - but what exactly did he mean by that? Eli bit his lower lip as placed his hand on the table for support. "And what do you exactly mean by that? I may be tinier than you, but I...I can fight," he stammered, lying straight through his teeth. Eli would definitely make sure to pray extra hard. He looked away, his eyebrows scrunching together in thought before glancing back at Finn. "And I don't get wound up easily. It's just...I'm not familiar with those type of things." He paused, almost ready to slam his forehead against the table.

The poor priest didn't seem capable of hurting a fly, accident or not. Finn didn't bother even attempting to pick a fight seeing as Eli would probably break in half at the slightest shove. Maybe a life of prayer and modesty did suit some people best, considering he couldn't imagine the man in a laborious profession spent under a harsh sun nor as a hardened man such as his judge nor the men who'd finally succeeded in his capture. No, the priesthood was becoming of a man his stature and demeanor out of any other man he'd met in his life. And Finn had met many on his path. Which made it all the more pathetic to imagine himself harming Eli in any way other than a good spook and some nasty language. He was too timid when approached to even bother laying a hand on and the argument about being able to defend himself was as reliable as a bucket full of holes. In fact, it would be downright painful to imagine Eli in the middle of some of the more loathsome men he'd crossed in the past and was lucky enough to slide past with his life. Which was why Finn didn't feel it necessary to hurt a single wispy hair on his head nor did he feel the need to prove his own strength.

“I believe you. I bet you fight your sheets mighty hard when you get all tangled up in 'em in the morning,” Finn snickered and found himself comfortable enough to go snooping in Eli's pantries. It wasn't as though any decent food was offered to him during his week long stay in his cell. Stale bread and dusty water wasn't the most palatable and it wasn't as if he could get his fix off of tobacco behind bars. He was a thin man himself, albeit thicker than Eli in muscle tone and was more on the lithe side than he was skinny. But that didn't mean he couldn't conjure up a wicked appetite when the chance for food presented itself. He sorted past the jellies and breads, dried and salted meats and settled easily on a single peach. He palmed the fruit, rolling it about his hands before jerking out one of the dining chairs and planting himself beside where Eli stood.

“Fighting ain't about just muscle. That's the first thing folks're wrong 'bout.” Finn took a moment to pause and sink his teeth into the fruit like some kind of hungry dog. With his cheeks full and his brow ruffled, swallowing far too much for a single bite, he continued. Finn carried on as though he weren't talking to a priest at all but a mentor to a young pupil. Perhaps Finn got a bit too excited, but how often did he get to brag about his best brawls and ramble to willing ears? “See, if you got a straight shot then you'll survive. Hop'fully. But you've gotta be quick more than anything else. Don't be afraid to take cheap shots – a man's got 'em for a reason.” He then, out of all his grand gestures, motioned to various areas. He pointed to both of his eyes as if to prod them, the heel of his palm hooking upwards against the underside of his nose, and finally a swift but loving pat on his groin followed by a cheeky grin. “Anythin' and everythin' is a weapon if you're creative 'nuff.”

Eli blushed at Finn's comment, looking away as he muttered something incomprehensible. He didn't have to fight his sheets in the morning! He could get out of bed just fine. Finn began to rummage through the pantry, pulling out a peach before setting himself down besides Eli. He briefly wondered if he should eat something as well, but then another wave of pain hit him and he lost his appetite. Eli never ate that much anyways which was probably why he was so skinny in the first place. The priest shifted his body away from the other, trying to avoid him. Then Finn started talking as if he were good friends with Eli, if not a mentor and pupil relationship.

Strangely enough, Eli gradually started to face Finn as the man continued to talk. Curiosity always got the best of him in the end. Eli didn't know anything about fighting and Finn seemed like the type to know about that sort of stuff. "Of course Finn would be good at fighting!" He mentally lectured himself. The man was a criminal!

His eyes followed Finn's hand movements that pointed out the various "cheap shot" areas. Eli made a note to stick his fingers into a person's eyes if he ever needed to defend himself in the future. He had no doubt that problems would arise. However, when Finn patted his groin, Eli quickly looked the other way. "Is that so?" He said, his face still red. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks," he quickly added before peering at Finn. "You must have had a hard life, huh?" He suddenly asked. "Knowing all of that..." He coughed awkwardly before reverting back to his more 'priestly' ways. "I suppose you should start your confessions now...or maybe later?"

Finn was no stranger to fighting. He'd formulated a number of strategies during times of danger and when quick thinking was a matter of living or being sent under the ground. It was a particular way of living when a man got his kicks out of a fresh face to scrap and fresh pair of fists along with it. Bar fights weren't untypical for him either - In fact it was a prime place to scratch the itch of adventure. Adrenaline, along with alcohol, was not a particularly good mix. Had Eli let him have his way, he'd show the tiny priest just exactly how skilled he was at a clean shot. Had the damn judge not ordered his gun to be confiscated, he would have anyway.

"Suppose I have. It does you good to know. But I scrap 'cause I enjoy doin' it." Finn didn't seem bothered. Personal questions were a foreign concept to him, quite possibly one of the noisiest men Eli would have to deal with. For a criminal, honesty about his own experiences seemed to be as genuine as they came. No question has yet to cross him; a life on the run with little to no money made a dishonest man honest in the strangest of ways. Be it loneliness or temporary acquaintances, he felt no need to lie about his own person.

"I wouldn't say hard. Wouldn't trade it for any other life there is out there. I get fed 'nough," he emphasized by waggling the half eaten fruit, "Work and rest on my own terms. No one gets to tell me who I am and who I ain't. I met men that make me look like one of your saints, if you can believe that. Never stole from family though, and one day when I'm out there again I'll strike it big somewhere and they won't have to work a day in their lives. They're sorry 'bout me now but they'll see."

It was a dream, and quite possibly the only kind of promise to another human being he'd keep. If a life of luxury meant settlement then he wanted no part. One day would be a lucky one and Finn would pass on the riches just to keep the glory of the steal. He just... needed to play his cards right and slip by both the law and the eyes of God by this point. Which, on the topic of God, it didn't seem as though Finn had ever had a proper confession in all of his waggish life. When he realized this, he pulled a puzzled face.

"Don't think I ever did confess before and I don't suppose I know what happens either."

Eli couldn't imagine living the life Finn led. Fights? Breaking the law? Wandering around with only a dream? The young priest was never able to understand those type of free-willed people. But Eli's entire life had revolved around God. Hours were spent pouring over the scripture and kneeling with his hands clasped together. He didn't go outside much nor did he socialize with others beyond church grounds. The only family he had was God and his adopted father. Compared to Finn, he had little to no experience about the outside world. So like a dried sponge, Eli soaked up every detail Finn gave.

The little bit about what Finn's family wrenched his heart-strings to say the least. Eli bit his lower lip, fighting back the urge to say a few words of comfort...Maybe along the lines of; "I'm sure they love you anyways" or "I hope you'll achieve that dream." Either one didn't seem appropriate. Instead, he concentrated on the fact that Finn Casey had indeed 'confessed' in some weird anecdotal way.

"It was good enough for me, learning about why you do the things you do," Eli admitted, almost laughing at the sight of Finn's puzzled face. "It usually goes like this - Asking for God's help and acknowledging your sins. Then you ask for forgiveness and promise that you'll never sin again..." He scratched his collarbone before abruptly standing up. "Excuse me. I have to change out of these clothes before I die of heat," he quickly muttered before scurrying upstairs to his room.

He would wear his clerical clothes all day but in this weather? Eli could no longer stand it. In a flash, he was in comfortable and light brown overalls and white dress shirt. Funnily enough, it only highlighted Eli's scrawny frame. Sighing in relief, Eli headed back where he had last left Finn, a bit ashamed that he had left the man hanging like that.

Finn didn't feel like his confession was anything extraordinary. In fact, he didn't recognize it as a confession much at all if it hadn't been for Eli confirming it as such. He shrugged, his puzzled face washing over with a comfortable satisfaction as though he expected something far more rigorous and complicated. That's how it always sounded, right? His thoughts didn't often turn towards God, or Jesus for that matter, and the only time he'd ever called out to either of them was in situations far more amoral than he figured Eli's poor tolerance of provocative speech could handle. In all honesty, Finn couldn't remember the last time setting foot in a church, much less folding his hands and earnestly praying. He found his own luck, or so he'd like to believe, in a fast and unabashed life that Eli was sure a stranger. He liked a fast life; he liked his smokes and his alcohol, he liked banter and rebellion, pretty women with round faces and rouged, cherry-colored lips, handsome but sheepish young men who turned a blind eye come morning. It was cheap life with even cheaper morals but it was a life Finn knew well. He didn't suffer, he didn't complain, and he couldn't imagine anything but.

Eli explained the order of confession. Frankly, he didn't understand how God was supposed to hear about them anyways and even more frank he wasn't all too sure what constituted a sin or how most of that worked anyhow. Was it a kind of special tally carved into the clouds by God Himself? What exactly happened to a man's sinning once they were offered up to the Lord anyways? It must have been written all down in that Holy Book, he concluded with a quizzical ponder at the leather-bound prize that the young priest was always clutching so dearly. He wasn't sure exactly who it was that wrote it, honestly, and it wouldn't do him much good to try and read it himself. Illiteracy wasn't a bragging right necessarily, and he'd gone thirty-some years without sitting properly with a word book in front of him. He knew enough phrases to get by, a good handful of his own vocabulary did the trick, but he wasn't sour of the fact.

Finn found it interesting enough to scoot the Book closer to the corner of where he sat. He fingered the rounded corners of the leather but did not bend them. Instead, he flipped through, watching each page cascade before starting again in idle patience while Eli was pardoned. The words were meaningless to him, too small of a print to be comfortable enough to read and in no way did he understand its formatting. It was a story? No, a rule book. Or perhaps both? It was the Word of the Lord, at least that's what he'd heard so many times before. When spoken, it was a wave of gibberish and nonsense in the sense that it all entered one ear and spouted out the other. He was close to raising a few questions that itched at his curiosity, but when the small man returned in garb that wasn't near-killing him from the heat, Finn cracked a much familiar grin.

“Now you're foolin' me. Hell, I coulda took you for a regular person wearin' this.” He gestured to Eli's change of clothes, one hand in motion while the other idly tapped on the outer cover of the Book. "'n here I thought you lived in all that black."

To Eli's surprise, Finn was just sitting there. He had thought the man would take the chance to run away when the priest left to go downstairs. The thought had struck him like lighting; how could he be so naive, leaving a criminal alone! Yet, Finn was sitting there before him, a hand casually tapping on the Holy Book. A relaxed smile crossed his face as he shrugged, feeling much more comfortable and pleasant. "Heat's unbearable," he simply said, taking a seat next to Finn.

He reached over, briefly touching the Book but not pulling it away from Finn. "Have you ever tried reading it?" He curiously asked. The Book took a special place in his heart. Not only was the word of God, it was a gift from his father. It was something that soothed him during rough times. Perhaps Eli would be able to persuade this hardened man to at least read a few passages.

Finn found a comfortable position, leaned back with his arms folded over his chest in a way that if he chose it he could fall asleep at will. He'd spent a week solid on a poor excuse of a bed and it was no secret that he was aching more than normal. No blanket, no pillows weren't an issue even, finding cushion even in the itchiest of hay was more enjoyable than a plank of wood. Even Eli's dining chair was more comfortable to settle in than any corner of his cell. Sleeping in Eli's modest house would be a strange night indeed with a shaky priest somewhere inside, wondering and waiting if Finn would try and slip out in the night. To steal away with his small belongings, or worse – even kill him? No, it was too malicious to even think of the idea of wronging Eli in that way. He might be a criminal, a poor excuse for a man and perhaps his soul was going straight south to the devil according to Eli's Holy Book, but he wasn't a cruel man. A liar, a cheat and a rogue all in one, but not a monster.

Finn had met monsters. He'd seen and heard of terrible deeds that made his stomach churn and lurch like any sane person would in reaction to his own crimes. Finn liked to think of himself as a sensible criminal himself. The type who didn't go out of his way to kill but wouldn't blink if he had to send a bullet through a man for getting in his way or spouting off something he really didn't like. But to kill Eli in his sleep would be downright low. If Finn were going to escape he was going to have to get a few things together, not just crawl free like a trapped animal. Which is exactly why he decided to humor himself.

Finn stretched out his hand, spinning the book so that it was facing him. He sat there for a moment with pursed lips, shrugged, then confessed casually, “Don't know how to read.”

Eli nodded after a second of hesitation. He had made a mistake, assuming that Finn could read and write. But there was nothing wrong with that. Being illiterate wasn't uncommon where he lived. He had met plenty of good holy people who couldn't read a lick of English. It was rather unfortunate. They were all hard-working but circumstances didn't allow them to afford an education. He, himself didn't know how to read and write until he finally accepted God in his early pre-teens. Only then did the want of learning took over him like a raging fire.

Since then, Eli was captivated by the Lord's words. Writing was a way to spread the word. Creating inspiring sermons were important. As a humble servant of God, he was to encourage people around him to praise the Lord. Ever since he had listened to a priest's inspiring sermon in Boston, Eli aimed to be just like that. A passionate and holy man.

He wasn't too worried about his skills. He had helped his father teach some of the followers. How hard could it be? He only needed some paper, pencil, patience, and blessings. "That's fine," he said, the faint bubbles of excitement rising within him. "I can teach you if you're willing." Eli shifted in his seat a little, glancing at Finn. But would this man even want to have daily English classes on top of Bible studies? He felt that excitement fade away in uncertainty. "You should try and learn," he added in a tone he would usually have dealing with a child. "It'll do you good in the long run."