The evening was nice and calm, as it always was. A cool breeze blew from Old Grandfather's Mountain, in the northeast. Jacquelyn sat on the edge of the fountain in the town square, sipping slowly at some of Billy's soup. This was one of the few times of day she just sits there and enjoys the mild southern weather. The bell in the church strikes six times, signifying the time of day.

Jacquelyn looked up and saw a young girl, with blonde curls, slowly bouncing down the street. She smiled, guessing she was also part of the caravan. Those wandering nomads always seemed to have huge families. The little girl looked friendly enough, so when the girl looked in her direction, Jacquelyn would wave in a friendly manner.