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[color=f7941d]“Someone claim her and get her home or I’m gonna keep her!” [/color]

Roz had stationed herself behind the bar and was lifting herself up onto her toes in an attempt to shout across the crowd that only seemed to be growing thicker. She had originally returned behind the bar in a frenzied chase after Temp to inquire about her tardiness, her impeccable entrance only drawing the attention of anyone with ears, but the child resting on a stool in front of her had demanded a far higher level of regard. 

Rosalyn was able to catch most of Temp’s interaction with the two guests and she could hardly fault her employee’s bitter tone as he further demanded a nonalcoholic lemonade from the bartender.

[color=f7941d]“You her Pop?”[/color] Roz had inquired of the man, but her natural softspokeness never lent itself well to the constant buzz of conversation within the bar. Her words seemed to be unable to compete and fell flat.

[color=f7941d]“I like to think that we’re not all terribly pinheaded here,”[/color] Roz protested a bit louder as she looked down her nose at the man, though she shot a reaffirming wink in the direction of Temp. She offered her best customer service smile, but the acidity laced within the turn of her lips negated anything positive within the action. The discourse that had already occurred had put the woman on edge, but the man’s audacity to indirectly accuse them of serving the girl was enough to sour her attitude. She knew these feelings would be mutual. 

[color=f7941d]“We’re not in the business of boozing up children. A little risky I’d say if I’d like to keep the deed in my name.”[/color] Rosalyn was shamelessly flaunting her ownership of the establishment and she found her upper lip curling subconsciously in annoyance as he offered the girl a view of a wanted poster, telling of some group of dangerous people as if recounting a ghost story. She found a level of humor in the idea of that describing half of the company situated in the saloon at that exact moment. She used this as an opportunity to try and verbally ruffle the man’s feathers in retaliation once more.[color=f7941d]“You’re gonna give the kid a nightmare, Pal. Leave her be or help me find her folks if-”[/color]

The rapid and undeniable sound of gunshots invaded the woman’s original thought and she found herself desperately turning to Temp for an action plan. Rosalyn’s instincts in the face of immediate danger were parallel to that of a trapped rabbit. She was capable of action only after formulating a plan and outline, but when things went to shit in a hurry, she found her logical thinking had a tendency to screech to a dead halt. Temp had proven to have a reaction time nearly as quick as her wit and was invaluable in situations such as the current. 

Blood rose up into and warmed Rosalyn’s cheeks as she peered outward from behind the slated Saloon doors. Her throat constricted within itself, though she was grateful that perhaps it would block bile from rising into her mouth. 

Dead bodies were strange.

Suddenly, vessels of life turned into empty containers. Glass bottles drained and discarded. Their skin instantly paled as the vascular system ceased its work and blood began following the rules of gravity. Her interaction with Leo had been brief at best, but she knew enough about the man to find herself reflecting on the impact of his sudden death. His errands would go uncompleted. He would never visit the general store. She wondered if his five dollar winnings were still tucked in his pocket. Someone would make it their own reward. 

Roz hurried back to the bar at the first signs the crowd would be trickling back inside, but not before noting how quickly Temp’s legs were moving beneath her. She watched silently at the woman returned instantly to her work without a comment. Never had lemonade been poured with such ferocity, however. 

Roz had begun scene control as soon as the man from earlier pushed through the door. She positioned herself between the two offending parties, one of them blatantly unaware of the tensions brewing as he called out yet another command. Perhaps he was wrong to have done what he did and perhaps not, but his type was all too familiar to Armadillo. A law enforcer, truly a general enforcer, of his own volition. 

[color=f7941d]“The town is small enough. Perhaps you can go to the law yourself? Explain what happened and how you… stepped in.”[/color] Roz selected her words with attentiveness, careful to not place herself on a specific side of the line as she addressed the man. 

[color=crimson]"[i]What[/i]?"[/color]

Rosalyn’s eyes widened as Temp nearly spat at the new customer and she instantly hooked her arm around the bartender. [color=f7941d]“I am so terribly sorry. I will be right back to help you, Ma’am,”[/color] she reassured the guest as she practically towed Temp along with her back into the kitchen. 

[color=f7941d]“What in God’s name, Temp?!”[/color] Roz started in, [color=f7941d]“That girl out there looks like you might blow her out of her chair hollering at her like that! And look, I get it, the fella is a royal piece of work. A royal piece of it, okay? And you just saw something horrific. That was absolutely terrible, I know. I hope that the Sheriff handles it all appropriately. But you-”[/color]

Rosalyn’s brow furrowed as something stole her attention and she tentatively placed her finger to the cut above Temp’s brow. Her voice noticeably dropped a few octaves and softened significantly, [color=f7941d]“Who did that? Are you okay? That’s not new. When did that happen? Was that here? In town? Let me get you some ice. You should take a break. Get something to drink and relax for a bit.”[/color]

Rosalyn moved to gather a towel and ice, though her tone returned unphased to continue reprimanding, [color=f7941d]“-but you cannot be tossing yourself around out there in a fit like that! You’re gonna cost us customers and therefore money! Money that goes into everyone’s wages! That keeps the place as a whole up and running!” 
[/color]