Isabela sat at the bar, in the saloon. In front of her a near empty bottle of scotch, and a glass with a single sip left in it.
While she normally didn't spend an in-ordinate amount of time on her appearance ... it was even more obvious then normal. Her both hands were caked with blood most of which wasn't hers, what was probably once a white bandage on her left hand was now brown and red ... a mix of dirt and blood.
Her eyes showed signs of crying, but barely.
on the bar in front of her, was a black handled knife ... driven point down into the bar; it too had blood on it... but all of that was hers.
Perhaps most out of place, was the missing deck of cards that she would normally carry when in the saloon; coupled with the ongoing game of poker behind her with two empty seats ... something was clearly bothering her.
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The batwing doors swung open
The batwing doors swung open as Jimmy made his way into the saloon. Isabella caught his eye immediately as usual, however this time he thought it best to not approach her first. Jimmy took a seat at one of the tables closest to the doors as possible. He didn't even approach the bar to order a drink, instead he just sat there and observed Isabella making sure she didn't do anything rash. Jimmy wanted to go console her, but he knew it was his fault and he didn't want to make matters worse. He just sat awkwardly at the table fidgeting with one of his speed loaders.
Isabela didn't even hear the
Isabela didn't even hear the doors swing open, even if she didn't it likely wouldn't have warrented turning around. She continued her activity of the past couple hours, she took the last sip of the scotch from her glass, and refilled it.
The Sheriff entered the
The Sheriff entered the saloon, he looked around reflexively for Sister Rosette, that's when the enormity of what had happened hit him. He made his way to the bar next to Isabella. "I've taken the liberty of ordering a pine box from Mister Moody for your sister, that will be the extent of his involvement with the internment process. Is there anything else you need Isabella?"
A million thoughts poped into
A million thoughts poped into her mind, and left just as quickly as they arrived.
"She was better then me in everyway possible..."
She took another sip of the scotch. "... I should be be the one who died."
Placing the glass back on the bar, she continued. "As far as Moody goes, that's appriciated; but I think a cremation is in order; as there's a reason his trade exists ... to bury her without his skills would be unwise."
"I'll let him know then..."
"I'll let him know then..." His words trailed off as he studied Isabella's face and body language. "Isabella, how are you holding up?"
Isabela didn't respond at
Isabela didn't respond at first, partially because she really wasn't sure how she was holding it.
Rather then try to answer the question she thought it easier to simply respond with how she felt. "It feels like a part of me that kept me sane ... is now gone."