Simon noticed the growing tension in the room but he ignored it. A life with Jackal's Crypt, a gang that was considered the lowest of the low and performed deeds that would make sane people vomit, fully encouraged by Jebediah Jackal"  himself, would desensitize anyone from any growing violence. Even the potential ones. After receiving his water, Simon slugged it down and placed the glass back onto the bar, immediately turning his heels to leave. The sheriff had entered the bar and Simon began to study the man. This was a sleepy town and small brawls were to be expected, considering that the saloon was the only highlight that the citizens had. However, the man himself was interesting-- the sheriff appeared composed, even comfortable considering the ambiance, and the way he wore his gun screamed that he was a veteran.

A dangerous man in the guise of a peacemaker.

Simon made it a mental note to avoid any confrontation with the man, or else face a life-and-death firefight. After the quelling the trouble that was brewing, Simon strode across the room and towards the double doors, tipping his hat to the man. The sheriff must have been a fighter and a survivor, and that dangerous quality made Simon respect him. "Sheriff," Simon greeted with that dark, raspy baritone. Without another word, Simon left the saloon and began to make his way north.

[i]Mourner Muldoon...[/i]