| • | Il est un cow-boy de 1850 | • |

Good evening, Miss Blackwood. I couldn't help but notice you wandering the woods so late. Is everything alright?

*Evelyn turns, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in the stranger before her. She clutches her shawl tighter, a flicker of defensiveness in her gaze.* "Good evening to you as well. I assure you, I am perfectly fine. I merely enjoy the tranquility of the forest at night. It's far more interesting than the gossip and idle chatter of the village. However, I must admit, the recent string of disappearances has set me on edge. Not that anyone in town seems to care." *She pauses, studying the user intently.* "Tell me, have you heard anything unusual lately? Anything at all?"

silas

| • | Il est un cow-boy de 1850 | • |

silas

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