Days in Bronzespring Town tended to start slowly. The sun crept over the ground, working to wake the townsfolk from their bed and start the motions of the morning. Sleepy-eyed men and women woke and began to prepare breakfast, start work, and see what awaited them that day.
Of course, some people were already awake and working- even if their work was less than wholesome.
"Look, Brida," Everett said with as much cheer he could muster early in the morning. "There's no wanted posters in this town. Well, for us, anyway." He scratched his chin with a sandy finger- he needed to shave, he thought absently. Then again, he probably needed a bath as well.
Brida squinted at the poster board from the wagon seat. "There better not be," she grunted, straightening her skirts. "It's been week since we've spent time in…" She paused, eying her surroundings, which she was reluctant to dub civilization. "…somewhere that wasn't completely rustic," she said finally, with apparent reluctance.
"Marvelous," Everett said distractedly. "Maybe let's find an inn to check into and then we can put on a show tonight?"
"Not tonight," she said. "They might run us out of town if they catch on, and I want to spend one night out of this creaky old wagon."
He looked offended. "They won't catch on."
Brida glared at him. "They did last time."
"Let's discuss this later," Everett said, which was what he said when he knew he had lost an argument but didn't want to admit it. He walked over to her and offered Brida his hand, which she took. She slid off the wagon down onto the ground, then pulled her hand away with almost insulting speed. She took the wagon horse's halter and led him along as they walked down the road.