"I've always been a man to take chances," he says, suspecting what's about to happen. The teasing between them, the way the scent on him still left Bobo edgy in a way that he had long since left behind for love. But that was all behind him now, and she was gone.

Beyond that, he's kind of amused. Maybe it's taking too many chances, risking his safety in a place where he'll never find his way back to the Ghost River Triangle, but if that's the case, so be it. Dying in whatever crazy hell this place is no worse than going back to being a trapped in Purgatory once more. Especially alone.

Here though he's not the man he's been, and there is every chance of being whatever he wants here. Which may end up a killer if he found himself hung up by his ankles.

Bobo shifts his weight, clasping his hands before him. He's expecting things to go from a little flashy roping as the other man moves in the swirling lasso. Even expecting something like this, his hands come up, almost grabbing the lead of the rope as the rope tightens around is body.

Habit makes him lean back, though only for a moment before he gives in. In fact, enough so to take advantage of the pull to bring himself well into Vasquez's space and up against him unless he moves away.

"Full of tricks, aren't you?"