[hr] [i][center]The smell of fresh bread was in Constantins nose, as he made his way down the stairs. The house was old, yet still in good shape, yet most importantly, all his! His homestead and place to hang his head, to settle down from a life of blood and death. Roxane had already been awake it seemes, preparing a breakfast for a loving husband. He kept her in this believe, and while not in love, he had to admit that he held some affection for the widow, who fully seemed to have fallen for the rugged charm of an traveler who had seen the world and came home with full pockets. The locals could glare all they want, he was now a landowner himself, and rather happy with the life of a simple farmer. He would try his luck with fruits, already having a contact with a local can producer. "LeBlancs Canned Peaches" had a nice ring to it, even through that greedy rat still wanted to press his own name onto the can as well. Futher negotiations would have to follow in that regard... Stepping into the kitchen, Constantin layed his eyes on the back of his wife, standing near the stove, the fresh bread already on the table. Maybe it was this that had him made leave China, where future riches and exotic pleasures were still to be discovered, the lack of a feeling of home.. [/center][/i] [hr] [u][b][color=darkorange]Chisholm Trail or Thereabouts[/color][/b][/u] [hr] His two companions would feel a sudden shiver running through the frenchman, as she suddently opened his eyes, sitting in the cramped inside of the carriage, grunting in displeasure over the sudden realization, that he was not home in france, with a loving wife preparing him breakfast, but countless miles away, in a continent he hated the moment he had left the ship...[b]America![/b] Cursing under his breath, the Mercenary would rub his hand over his face, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes, as his whole body felt stiff from the ride, and his legs ached to leave this cramped carriage. [b][color=lightblue][b]"Kaufman, pass me the water..."[/b][/color] Three strangers they were, but at least with Kaufman he had a bound of trust and an old debt to pay back. The Englishmen on the other hand, was just another white face for him, whom he had mistrusted even when he had met him in Sedan, and his sentiment had changed little in the mean time. With an sigh, he would guide the skin of water to his lips, before taking a hearty sip from it. The humid heat was more bearable inside the carriage, yet still in no way pleasant. Returing the skin back to Kaufman, he would sink back into his eat, before looking at the englishman, his eyes narrow and with an cold look in them. [b][color=lightblue]"So [i]Rosbif[/i], remind me again, why are we marry band of comrades on the way to this Selina? Could we not have performed what every business you had in mind in Doge City?"[/color] [/b]