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

Adam sat on a stool over his cookfire preparing the dinner for later, glazing it with whiskey (and sneaking a swig or two) at times as he cooked the steak. After the meal was done, he took the pan from the over the fire and went inside to place it on the hotplate to keep it warm for later and went back outside to sit in front of the fire with his guitar. He sat for a minute, wondering what to play, before deciding to play the old blues song 'Down by the Riverside'. It wasn't long into the song when a loud collection of gunshots rang out and Adam stopped playing, looking south towards the entry to town. He shrugged, took another drink and began playing then notes to the song again but long forgot the lyrics. He stopped a second time, contemplating going going to see the commotion. He sighed a grunting sigh muttering "Whatever. Ain't got nothing to with me and I ain't no cowboy." and put the guitar beside the faded stool, walking inside and shutting the door, keeping his pistol unholstered just in case it was more than drunk idiots fighting. He stopped in front of the mirror as he was passing. He noted the grey in his beard, the lines in his face. Adam's face was grim as he touched himself, [i]'Look at you, kid. You've done got old no matter how young you might feel inside. Think of how many folk don't live past twenty in this god-forsaken world, you really going to let these kids in Salem throw themselves down? One more body given so you can live?'[/i]. Adam nodded and looked away, ashamed, "Nothing means anything to me anymore. The hell should I care?". Adam looked back at his reflection, locking eyes with himself, [i]'You know why, kid. You spent your whole life wandering and drifting. You've been here a few days and you're already meeting folks. Rook? Celeste? Ace?'[/i], his mind brought their faces to mind as his thoughts continued, [i]'Hell, son. You might even make Celeste your girl and you'd risk them all? For what? A few years hiding in a shack?'[/i]. Adam frowned, "Over twenty years of no real responsibilities. Last time I left the only responsibilities, I lost everything. Not again.". Adam picked up his rifle from under his bed and checked to make sure she was loaded and ran to the gates of town. He ran up to a woman with long brown hair, "Hey! What is it, partner? Bandits? Mutants? 'claws, God forbid?"