Guilhartz becomes painfully aware that he has become not a token of interest but rather a splash of difference among the sepia-toned wilds that this place otherwise had been colored. He couldn't exactly understand half of what was being said during the conversation anyway. Try as he might, thick accents and the hushed whispers a language he couldn't call his native tongue was a bit overwhelming all the same. The Bavarian's eyes darted back and forth as he made futile attempts to focus in on what each person was saying but this speech was nothing like the British, nothing like those city folk on the coast. This was a different culture and, to him, a different world entirely.

The gunshot disrupts his focus and breaks him out of the cold sweat before it really became apparent he was consumed by his surroundings. People seem a bit more agitated than they appear to harbor authentic interest in the scene. Realizing he was likely not to be able to understand anything further beyond that she was looking for the sheriff and that he spoke some strange variation of what Guilhartz himself assumes to be an American form of Cockney, he moves to file out of the saloon with the rest.

Witnessing Clyde climb back up from his stumble made him feel pity if not a sense of elation like the townsfolk around him. Guilhartz broke away from the exodus instead to move around the periphery. Here, he would stop cold to get a lay of the land. All the voices around him begin once again to usher into a single cacophony. One thing managed to stand out above the rest and that would be Clyde's attempt to speak a language he had not yet become familiar with. It was now that he was able to see Uzume greeting the young deputy. A woman of the East? He had never seen such a thing back home.

One thing from this whole experience brings him a great deal of comfort. Upon hearing her speak to Clyde, he could hear that the samurai was speaking perhaps just awkwardly as he is sure he sounds to those around him. Until now, he'd been afraid to stand out far too much. If a deserter from Prussia were to speak, others would notice. Ulysses was a town different than the rest he had passed through before. People here [b]are[/b] different. It now begins to settle on his mind, and while he stands watching the supplies be tossed about and filtered through, he only thinks of the rumbling at the core of his stomach urging him to eat.