Yomiel nods to himself in the manner of someone who's taking in new information and agreeing with it, a thin smile on his lips that says the other is correct in his initial judgement. He thinks, for a second, that he likes this man's attitude. It makes him wonder about him, at least more so than 'how would that get-up of his look if I knocked him over and sent him back covered in mud, oh I bet the ole sheriff'd be thrilled'.

"And what a dirty, low-down trick, cryin' shame, that," he responds in a heightened tone, likely for the dramatic effect, "I'll bet if you put up the coin for it you could ride a proper horse like the rest of the lawfolk 'round here. Mind if I ask what someone of your position is doing with a contraption like that?"

Fellow man, there's a nice phrase and he catches himself pondering for a moment if he could ever consider another person a 'fellow man' ever again. The dead shouldn't keep the living for company, if everyone's inability to notice him has said anything about that. Oh well, it pays to mingle when he can, there's the chance this guy won't even recognize him come the following morning. The wandering spirit has found that it varies between individuals, not that he has much hope of understanding it aside from keeping track of those he should worry about trying to put bullets in him. 'A curse' is all he really needs to know.

He hunches a shoulder in a lazy, single-armed shrug.

"What can I say, deputy? You've got me right figured out, dontchya? Entertainment can be hard to come by."

Flashing a white smile in the afternoon sun, he shifts a hand to pat the revolver at his waist.

"No harm in bein' prepared, I've found myself in spots of trouble before, good sir, enough times to warrant it. Maybe someone who takes not to the country often wouldn't understand."

The horizon sits heavy and orange to the west, the way it does once it hits a certain time and seems to hang there for ages. It's a nice view, but the ghost can't help but wonder how long he's left Sissel on his own today. His concept of time could use some work these days.

"What's your name?" he asks the air in an offhanded nature, lifting his gaze from the man in favor of watching down the river thoughtfully.