[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191025/9302fb9c14b2df3bc1fb90d74b566427.png[/img][/center] [center][color=#837E7C][b]MENTIONS:[/b] [@AmpharosBoy] [@NachoBachoPacho][/color][/center] [color=#837E7C]She was able to quickly get the water-skin and once again be on her way. It was a smaller skin, one that wouldn't become too heavy when it was filled with water. Which was good, because Jules thought her supplies were becoming a little on the heavy side. Humming a tune under her breath, she walked in long strides back to her horse, who seemed to be satisfied with all the water he had drank. She patted the side of his neck again and glanced over his body to see if he was in top shape. He was clean enough for the race and it wasn't like he leaned on one side of his body. Jules had checked his shoes too, just to make sure that they weren't filthy or anything of the sort. Luckily for her, everything was going to-- [i]CRASH![/i] Jules blinked when the sound of a glass pane shattering reached her ears. She stood straight as she realized that someone was on the floor in the midst of broken glass. Did that guy... just get thrown out of a saloon window? She continued to watch from afar as the center of attention seemed to be a short kid that had been giving the other men a run for their money. That was, until he was on the floor and was thusly ganged up on by the others. She didn't do anything; the fight wasn't her problem, so there was no reason that she had to become involved in it. Either way, they were probably just going to rough him up a little and then leave him alone. So she watched for a small amount of time, somewhat amused, until she realized that the beating [i]just didn't stop.[/i] Her amusement faded away into concern, turning away from Greasy Sand and eyeballing the beating warily. Maybe she should step in after all. Jules had seen the gun glimmering in one of the men's hand, but there was little time to react before a gunshot. That was when her concern turned into fear. Did this kid really get shot in a bar fight? She sprinted over to the scuffle, only to see that it wasn't the kid that had gotten shot. One of the men was bleeding on the floor, screaming and clutching his bloody shoulder. The other men had paused in their bludgeoning as they stared at their compatriot. [b][color=41A317]"Well,"[/color][/b] she glanced at the man with the mustache. [b][color=41A317]"At least [i]someone[/i] went and did something. Good shot."[/color][/b] The man groaned again, stirring from the floor, but Jules was upon him in an instant. In two steps, her boot was crushing the hand that still gripped his gun. [b][color=41A317]"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Unless you another bullet wound-- in the middle of your forehead."[/color][/b] She glanced back at the other men, who were definitely less confident now that two other people had approached. [b][color=41A317]"The same goes for you idiots."[/color][/b] That was enough said, it seemed. They stared at Simon and her, mouths agape, before they scampered off in fear. All that was left to do was to make sure that the boy was alright. Jules peered down at him skeptically, sniffing a bit before nudging him with the toe of her boot. From first glance, the kid was bruised and a little bloodied, but his injuries didn't seem all too bad. [b][color=41A317]"Hey. Get up."[/color][/b] she muttered. The boy didn't react fast enough. Sighing, she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet before dusting him off from the dirt. [b][color=41A317]"See? You're alright. Only a few bruises and scratches, nothing more."[/color][/b] [/color]