[b]“The boy appeared in the square a few minutes ago, apparently there was trouble with his family’s caravan…”[/b]

Deminora considered that for a moment. The promise of a caravan was enticing, although it could be anything from a traveler’s wagon to part of a larger supply line. The vagueness of the aforementioned ‘trouble’ was unsettling to her, and she had no way of measuring just quite how perilous a situation she’d potentially be entering herself into.  

[b]“Indians attacked…”[/b]

“I’ve dealt with redskins in the past,” Philip grumbled over her shoulder “they ain’t got much by way of arms, but if you let them get the drop on you you’ll end up with a spear in ya neck and an axe in ya belly.” 

[b] “It looks like some folk are going to go out and see if there are any survivors. I suppose if you’re wishing to help you could bring back the bodies for a proper burial…I’ve got this young man well in hand. He’s not hurt just sun sick. Of course if you prefer you could come into the infirmary with me.”[/b]

The nurse then vanished into her office, leaving the odd-looking pair out in the sun-blasted square. 

“What are we thinkin’?” the hired gun asked in his gruff voice, scratching away at the stubble on his chin.

“Depends on if it's worth the hassle or not.” Deminora gave a loose shrug, gazing blankly into nothingness. 

“You have to realize that you’re risking life and limb here, Miss Corett.” Philip said firmly “There’s no two ways about it; when you go riding off into the wilderness you’re takin’ a gamble on your soul.” 

Deminora whirled around, her billowy skirt fluttering around her ankles. 

“If I bow my head and move on every time something dangerous comes around then we won’t be getting very far.”  She tossed her head back, her auburn tresses tumbling down her shoulders “I’m gonna have to risk my hide at some point, Mister Taeorinn. Might as well start here.” 

The young lady strode elegantly back over to where the rabble of townsfolk were gathered, her expensive shoes clattering against the ground. 

“What are you planning to do, Miss?” 

“I’m a Corett.” she declared boldly “the South is in my blood.” 

A grey haired figure, with skin bewitched to a dark tan, was standing at the heart of the gathering, calling out to those who had the good grace to listen.

[b]“Alright folks. Sounds like the boy’s family was hit by injuns. Apache most likely, maybe Comanche. I’m hopin’ to get some men together to go out and go see what happened. Any able-bodied men who’d be willin’ to volunteer, I’d appreciate it. Need men who can shoot and ride, and provide their own guns and horses.”[/b]

He was making his way across the square, probably to really up more support, when his eyes fell upon Deminora and Philip. 

[b]"You're welcome to come along, if you can handle a gun."
[/b]

Then he vanished into a nearby Saloon. 

“There’s our opportunity then, Mister Taeroinn.” Deminora gave an artfully sculpted smile “Let's go kill us some savages.”