[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191025/9302fb9c14b2df3bc1fb90d74b566427.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=#837E7C][b]MENTIONS:[/b] None at the moment.[/color][/center]
[color=#837E7C][sub][b]San Diego Beach, California
Thursday, September 25th, 1890
9:30 AM[/b][/sub]

The sun was harsh, almost overwhelming. Despite it being early autumn, there was no crisp breeze that cooled the sweltering earth. The ground was dry, pale, and somewhat cracked. The Pacific was at her back, along with the sandy shores of the beach. There would be people gathered there in preparation for the beginning of the race. Something told Jules that she should have been there as well, that maybe being there early would give her an advantage, but she had a couple more things to do in the town before she went back to the beach. She had been running low on provisions for a while; the last thing she wanted to do was starve in the middle of some godforsaken desert.

Jules rode on Sandy Grease's back as she made her way through the town. Her wide-brimmed hat was enough to shield her eyes from the sunlight, though there was nothing she could do to cool herself off as of now. She needed two things: a water-skin (which she had totally forgotten to buy) and a couple of more packages of dried meat that could last her a couple of days. There were other participants of the Steel Ball Run lurching about the town as well. Horses, fitted with fancy saddles and saddle-cloths marked with 4-digit numbers, were tied to a couple of posts outside of stores. Besides the general townsfolk, there were strangers that watched her with a mixture of hostility and curiosity. They were usually men-- raggedy-looking ones at that --and God, were most of them ugly as shit. Jules didn't care much about them and when they sought to make eye contact, she simply stared straight ahead with a blank expression. She didn't have the time to be gawking. 

Saddle-cloth number 1728. The number that she was assigned had a seven it, so Jules considered it twenty-five percent luckier than a number without a seven in it. It was a childish belief, but it was one that made the corners of her lips twitch with a grin. Sure, there were people with more than one seven on their saddle cloths, but this was [i]her[/i] number seven, no one else's. 

Sandy Grease sighed as Jules dismounted near a store. She dusted off her pants and straightened out her cloak before she patted her trusty steed's side. She had purchased Sandy Grease not long after arriving in America. At first, she was wary about the stallion; he seemed to be lethargic, almost ill. Though, she quickly realized that Sandy could easily overtake a horse running at full speed with a burst of energy. The icing on the cake was the fact that his seller wanted nothing more to do with the horse and thus sold him to Jules at a fairly low price. A grin finally broke over Jules' expression as she patted Sandy's flank. [b][color=41A317]"Good boy,"[/color][/b] she cooed, leading him to a trough from which another horse was drinking from. She tied him to the post, making sure her knot was tight, and headed off in the direction of a store. 

If one looked close enough at her, one might notice the two spheres that hung from her hip. It was a curious site indeed, for it was commonplace for one to be armed with a pistol during these times-- not something that looked like miniature cannonballs. Nevertheless, they didn't weigh her down. Jules was so used to their presence that she walked as if she didn't carry them at all. She got a few curious looks that she promptly ignored. Instead of noticing their glances, she was able to find a small store that specialized in cured and dried meats. It was even ducked underneath a wooden overhang that shielded it from the sun. Jules trotted up the small flight of stairs and approached the tender. 

[b][color=41A317]"Morning. I'll have a quarter pound of your best jerky,"[/color][/b] she stated before the girl behind the counter could even say anything. It took little time for the girl to pack up said amount of dried meat into a small bag, and, after Jules gave her the adequate amount of money, Jules was once again on her way. She walked towards a general store as she counted her change. 

[i][color=41A317]It should be about 9:30 just about now,[/color][/i] Jules thought as she glanced up at the sun. [i][color=41A317]I should have enough time to find myself a water-skin and get back to Sandy Grease before he bloats himself with water.[/color][/i][/color]