"I'll go with you," Eliza volunteered, adressing Gavril and Bill. "From what you've said, it might be good to have a woman with you. Anyways, half the town already thinks [i]I'm[/i] a witch." Giving a lopsided grin, she started toward the door, but hesitated and darted back to the table. She snatched the bottle of wine that Cyrus had left unfinished and tucked it into her generously-sized hip pouch. Armed with alcohol, a shotgun and a hell of an attitude, Eliza moseyed out the door.

Outside, Bill was smoking and appeared to be lost in thought. Eliza nudged him. "Can I have one of those? I'll trade ya." She showed him the wine, playfully stealthy. The poor man seemed like he needed a drink.