[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Bridgette Vinters[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/b4/78/d5b478ac0063ce48f5bab3cb5648b0a1.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Atop the wagon, in front of the Courthouse
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	Bridgette found herself staring at the vehicular monstrosity across the way. Her scowling had receded marginally. Not enough for people to mistake her as being warm and/or friendly, mind you, just enough to show that there were other emotions working. Her mind went back to that morning, when she first saw the massive thing barrelling carelessly down the road. She had mixed emotions about the truck, simultaneously impressed by the machine and repulsed by it. Then again, she could be biased; her first experience with it involved a megaherd drawn to her and her sister-in-arms' position. The subsequent slow speed chase afterward was a very interesting way to spend the better part of a day, followed by entry into this ...quaint... little community. 

	She could see inside the truck, but just barely. The dying sun cast a glare across the front windshield, limiting her vision to outlines and movement within, for the most part. Details were scarce. Bridgette had the feeling that this lack of detail did not extend both ways; that if Ash were staring back at her, it would be through the near equivalent of one-way glass. Of course Mother Nature would conspire to give him the upper hand. Typical. 

	Existential questions about Newnan skipped and leapt through her thoughts. Who were these people? Did they come here together, or has this place been a crossroad of sorts for the last three years? And not of least importance, were these people actually decent folk, or was she in the middle of a setup? 

	The benefit of the doubt was given to that last question. Logically speaking, were they outright horrible people, they would have been stripped of possessions and riddled with holes the minute they were behind closed doors, either Bridgette's aggression or Niesha's insistent difficulties acting as the social lubricant to accelerate the approach of their impending doom. Quite the opposite, these people had overlooked their stunning lack of diplomacy. Not only giving them shelter, they saw to the medical needs of their fallen acquaintance and had enacted a plan to reroute the dead people at their heels. The people with guns that were ordered to stay by them did just that - stay by them. They didn't antagonize, they didn't take any threatening action whatsoever. 

	Still, Bridgette would have felt more comfortable with her spear in hand. 

	Her inner reasoning about the present situation gave way to a sound external to her own cranium. It was a voice, smallish and feminine. [color=cyan]"Nice horses, what are their names?"[/color]

	A young lady, practically a girl, smiling innocently up at her. Seemed nice enough. Then she stretched out her arm and began to caress her horse's mane. While she very probably didn't have any ill intention in mind, their horses meant the difference between life and death for them, may times over. Astrid tolerated Bridgette caring for her horse about as well as Bridgette tolerated Astrid in the reciprocal. That is to say, they trusted one another, but preferred to take care of it personally, exhibiting mild annoyance otherwise. 

	[color=orangered]"Aw, hey there, cutie. Come a little closer, let me get a good look at you."[/color] Bridgette began sweetly. As she continued, her words slowly shifted to the bizarrely venomous. [color=orangered]"We've been on the road for a while, dear, so you'll have to bear with while I explain. Ya see, you're taking an [i]awful[/i] big risk there, laying hands on my horse, [i]for a lady who's never fixed me a meal [b]nor Cunnied my fucking Lingus.[/b][/i] And just this second, you should be thanking whatever God abandoned you that I'm up here and not my friend."[/color]

	Sally seemed to manifest next to the both of them, still working her appointed rounds passing out foodstuffs to newcomers and Newnanites alike. She stood, mouth agape, having witnessed the nigh psychopathic rant of the mail-clad Bridgette. Hesitantly, she passed over a cloth wrapped bundle. Bridgette accepted it and peeked inside. It looked quite a bit like hard boiled eggs, dried meat, and some manner of cracker. Not in any great amount, but enough to stave off the more gnawing bit of hunger pains. 

	With what sounded like intense sincerity, Bridgette shifted gears radically, addressing the lady with the food. [color=orangered]"Oh, that is [i]so fucking sweet[/i]. Thank you. Hey, can I get one for Astrid?"[/color]

	As Sally passed over another bundle from her basket, Bridgette looked back to Kristina. [color=orangered]"You see that? Huh? [i]She[/i] can pet my horse."[/color]