Now, Ruby was no stranger to gore or violence. You didn't keep the sorta' company she kept, and grow up believing the world to be all daisies and rainbows. Even so, the spectacle that greeted her at the window churned her stomach. The Stagecoach laiden with corpses, or at least bits of them. Organs that should have been safely inside, were strewn all over what little remained. It was staggering in its brutality alone.

"That's.." What could you say? How could you even find the words? "I don't really know what that is.."

The blonde flicked her eyes to Diego, but only for a moment. The fire struck up in her peripheral vision, and her head soon followed the visage. Without realising it, Ruby puffed out her cheeks in shock. All of a sudden she wished that she was back at the camp, moaning about Mrs Grimshaw, and darning socks.

"That's not good." An understetment for sure, but it said everything that needed to be said.