To say that Lolly May had abso-fucking-lutely no idea what was going on would probably be giving the tightly wound ranch hand credit she did not deserve. She had her guns, small yet well worked fingers tapped across her frame again for the 15th time to double check while some preacher type she couldn't see droned on. She adjusted the strap on the saddle bag, also for the umteenth time during a speech she guessed could have been pretty simple. City types never could tell a bit from a butt and always wanted to talk it out with the wooden Indian. From what she gathered all that was needed was, "Shoot these ones, they bad. Oh, and maybe a lil’ something for the God-Emperor, just to satisfy Mama." These people could take notes from Coach Bellahue on stirring the team up for gametime. The way they were going on she wasn't feeling any more ready, though she sure as shit wasn’t scared; fear does require a bit of situational understanding that Lolly May surely did not posses. At least she had that boon. Confusion? Maybe. Hell, the only one she’d really understood was Clayton and he had supported her own easy as pie confidence that this was just a simple rodeo. She liked that big summofabitch, he was common as cornbread to her ilk and it was nice to have something of home. Though she thought it was a crik of shit no one had told [i]her[/i] that dogs were allowed. Maybe she’d wrangle herself some alien dog to bring home to her friends. Now that would be a story better than Grandpa Leroy's scalps. 

Ugh, this was about exciting as a mashed potato sandwich. She took another pull of her moonshine and then slipped the already dwindling flask back into the breast pocket of her leather vest and tapped to be sure she still had a pack of lho’s. Bored? Most assuredly. 

Bless her heart, it didn’t help that she was surrounded by a 6 foot tall wall of people and at 5’5” she’d have to stand up to look a rattler in the eye so she had no chance of eyeing anything. She looked over at the bull beacon with his nose in a book and tilted her head like a coon dog off scent. She contemplated shimming up his shoulders for a gander at this god awful parade-- she’d never thought to see this many folks all gathered together and was decidedly against it. He seemed right stable and not the type to pitch a fit. Then he started spouting what she could only gather was some Tau commie bullshit and her nose wrinkled. How the fuck did he know all this? But more importantly, why did he care? If he’d preached that little diddy during service they probably would have called him a witch and shoved a brander into his side. But, she had to assume he was here for the same reason as her. She offered him a smile to let him know someone was listening. Boy must be all hat and no cattle, and she was definitely judging his hat. But, it was the polite thing to do even if he sounded a bit off. Mama always said be kind to those less fortunate than yerselves. Her kindness came in her decision not to climb up the boy; he was kinda scrawny anyways and she didn’t want to snap him like a twig on their first day. Instead she took another sip of the shine and extended the flask towards the man. "Howdy there, name's Lolly May."