Jesse always was transparent about his intentions. He recognizes the stance, the way he holds his arm just a little ways apart from his side just ready to snatch up the pistol. It would be so easy to just completely ignore his taunt. He rarely fell victim to it before, and he could easily avoid it again, but perhaps that'd be too telling.

But Reaper is tired. It's been a long day, and he's not sure if he can fully dredge up the energy to put into this fated confrontation. He can feel Jesse's energy, though. The punk wants a fight, and he wishes he could indulge him just to get a satisfying crack of his knuckles against his jaw or something.

Well, this wouldn't be the first time he's let Jesse down.

"Shots fired before the draw."

He drawls like he's rolling his eyes. His own fingers twitch, hovering near his own gun. If the cowboy draws, he'll have to respond, regardless of how tired he is. Death never does takes a break.