[i][color=a36209][b]Adam 'Trails' Wilford[/b][/color][/i]

Adam walked along the old highways and roads of Massachusetts and had found himself trading with a small town called Sanctuary Hills and had scored a nice haul in caps. "I tell you, Bessie, these northerners don't realize how good and fat it is around here. 200 Caps will last us a long time!" He pat Bessie on the side as his boots crunched alongside Bessie's hooves while he took a deep swig out of a fresh bottle of whiskey. When he arrived to the town of Salem, the guards warned him of no funny business almost right away and Adam could only chuckle. "Son, look at me. I'm a drunken trader whose only friend's a Brahmin, ain't that right, Bessie?" She mooed a confirming moo as if in answer. "See, we ain't looking for trouble, mister. We're just in town to trade, maybe settle in a while." The guards sighed and waved him through, obviously ready to be done with him. As he walked by the guard, he smiled at him and stopped, putting his bottle in the man's pouch. "Consider that my token of good faith, hoss. Friends?" He chuckled and pat the man on the back before making his way into town. "Well I'll be a Radroaches uncle. I expected a bunch of tin shacks like a couple backwoods rednecks. They got a proper town growing here. This'll be a fun adventure, girl." Looking about the town as he walked, he found what looked like to be a pre-war diner, still in use too. He couldn't find a spot to stick the rope to, so he put Bessie in a parking spot like she was some ol' Corvega. "You stay there, like a good girl. I'm getting some food for us, some vegetables for you and some steak for me, alright?" Her moo was an accusatory tone, to which Adam scoffed, "Don't play this game, girl, you know I ain't ever gonna eat you, sweetheart. But a man's gotta eat all the same." He turned and kicked his feet on the concrete to wipe the dust off and pushed the door open, the bell ringing overhead. He looked around and smiled, [i]'Nice place'[/i], he thought to himself as he sat at the counter. "Howdy, tell the cook I'll take a side of beef, some vegetables for me, a few for Bessie," He hiked a hand out the window behind him to his Brahmin, "and give me a cold glass of milk please." He dug into one of his infinite collections of pockets for a handful of caps and looked back up, "By the way, know any cheap places to rest my head? Or any unused houses? I'll take either to be honest."

((OOC: Whether his Brahmin is actually smart enough to pick up and understand things he says is up for debate and it's mostly how he's hearing it so he responds accordingly. Anyone who wants to chit-chat with Adam is more than welcome to if they want.))