Achille had remained leaning against the saloon wall, twirling one of his revolvers between his fingers out of habit as he mentally went over recent events. The town was in trouble and the faster he left, the less likely he would have to deal with whatever what was to come. Yet in his moment of reflection the vampire knew that to abandon Longwater and those who aided him would go against his moral code and jeopardize why he had been travelling the Wild West for years. Whatever was coming, he was bound to run into again. It seemed his fate would be the same as the towns.

With the fighting over, Achille took a glance at Jack who despite all that had happened, remain rather composed in this entire ordeal. Perhaps this is why humans drank so much... it lessened their nerves in a way he could never comprehend. Still stuck in his thoughts, Achille heard Christina made a reference to Jack in regards to a 'black beast '. Recognizing the significance of this, Achille pushed himself off the wall, hoisting his revolver as he exited the saloon. 

Emerging back outside, Achille squinted his eyes in focus as he surveyed the town... or what was left of it. The corpses littered the town and those who remained alive all had that nervous look in their eye. It was understandable but Achille took note that amidst the action there were those still pressed for action. Christina, the one who had helped him earlier was already out and about trying to help the other survivors. Her selfishness was admirable and her skills made her invaluable to the town. The bounty hunter privately mused that she might be the only one who can keep the town afloat after today and to think he almost subconsciously tried to take a bite. That thought alone was amusing though he knew internally that if he had, it's unlikely he would leave Longwater alive... not with all the armed survivors in the area. Walking towards the 'black beast' referenced earlier, Achille raised his gloved hand and gently pressed it against the creature's side, relived that his travelling companion was alive.
[i]
"Relax."[/i] Achille commanded as the startled beast of a horse who strained against the hitching post gradually began to ease. [i]"Relax." [/i]Achille said again as he inspected his horse for any injuries. To his relief, the horse remained injury free though there were a pair of bodies by the horse's rear whose torsos bore the imprint of the horse's hoof. In terms of speed, one could do better but when it came to stamina and power, Breton horses were excellent. Reaching into of one of the saddle's various bags, Achille grabbed a carrot and offered it to his mighty steed. "It seems old friend, we're not going anywhere for a while."

As Achille began to inspect his equipment, word had spread fast that the sheriff was calling for an emergency meeting at the office. Knowing that their survival was dependent on the cooperation of the surviving townsfolk, Achille proceeded on over towards where the rest of the survivors, curious on what approach the sheriff would take.