Tanya was seated at one end of the table, with the mercenary on her left, the scarred man on the right, and the short one in the middle. She didn't say a word or make a move while she sat, for she was awaiting the results of the short squabble in front of her.

"Black, ya dog! Hats off at the table, 'specially in front of a lady." That last part he'd lowered his voice somewhat.

"Just the hat? Not the guns or the poncho?"

The man bristled, "There is nothing wrong with having manners at some point in the day."

During this time, Tanya had casually propped her feet up on the table. Purely to spite the scarred one, of course. No one took notice at first, "You can take yer manners and shove 'em where the sun don't shine."

This made the man aghast at his accusation, "I beg your pardon?"

The shorter man was watching from the sidelines, looking uncomfortable as usual. She decided to push herself into the conversation with a casual remark, "Is this the average home in a place like this? It's..." She didn't want to say it, but a compliment was supposedly the right thing to say, "cozy?"

The trio averted their eyes to her, the scarred man looking at her disapprovingly as he noticed her boots on the table, and the mercenary gave him a cocky look - probably because she was taking his side in this discussion. The scarred man cleared his throat after a long silence, "Right... still. Hat off. It's rude."

The mercenary grumbled at him before carefully taking the hat off his head and placing it on the empty chair next to him. In this light it was hard to tell what colour his rather scraggly hair was - she was undecided between brown or blonde. He seemed awfully uncomfortable, and she realized very quickly that he'd also have to take the false face off as well. She hadn't even considered there was anything under that crude mask up until just now. She watched - staring unashamedly, rather - and enjoyed every moment of his discomfort. With a swift movement, the mask was placed inside his hat, and she could now see the full extend of the permanent scowl he seemed to wear. It really only solidified what she'd knew all along: he was as crotchety and frank as an old man. He'd certainly seemed like he'd seen his fair share of conflict, and he most certainly didn't seem to mind letting himself get all scruffy like that. She had to admit though, that it was rather befitting of him. Not everyone is made for a rich lifestyle. His face was visibly lighter than the rest of the skin he showed, most likely from the combination of that ridiculous hat and mask - Why did he wear the mask anyway? It didn't seem comfortable in the slightest, especially in such dreary weather like this. 'Perhaps he prefers to remain anonymous, seeing as he's a murderer?'

That thought was harsh but she did not dwell on it, for the others had finally stopped bickering long enough to acknowledge the food in front of them. It was still warm, after all this time? How odd. She glanced down at her own serving that was noticeably smaller than the others. The meat seemed fine enough - it looked like meat - but what in the world was this... mush? She'd be a liar if she said it looked not unlike like someone's upheaval, and that alone made her stomach turn, not aided any by the hunger that'd crept up. It just made it feel oh-so wrong. She looked around the table to see no one else complaining about it. The bounty hunter didn't seem very interested in his food, but he was preoccupied with his drink more than anything. The other two men were engaged in a quiet conversation with one another to break the awkward atmosphere - it didn't help her any, however. Ugh, was she really expected to eat this... whatever it was? She'd probably eaten worse when she absolutely had to when she'd been on her own in Outworld, but at least she actually knew what those things were.

The bounty hunter made eye contact with her as he set his bottle down. The sharp odor in the air told her it was an alcohol of some sort... she never did like the stuff. He seemed like he was going to make a comment before he was addressed by the short man, "Hear that? Makin' quarry out over by Dry Cross... bah! Ain't that place dead?"

The scarred man added, "I heard they may have struck it rich. They've been movin' a lot of blasting powder out that way by train."

"Wouldn't surprise me." He didn't sound interested.

Neither was she, but she had little else to think about at the time, other than giving her serving a nasty look. The short man continued, "By train? Seems like a bad idea, if you ask me. What about them redskins? Ain't they an issue?"

The scarred man took a sip from his own beverage, "Not that I've heard. Weren't they driven out East-a-ways a while ago?"

"Couldn't say. No one tells me these things, ya know. Figured you'd know though, considerin' your property out that-a-ways."

She knew paying attention to details - even the most dull ones - could prove beneficial, but she was quickly growing bored. She instead decided to ignore the mushy 'food' altogether and simply eat what she knew was actually edible. It was half-cold. How unfortunate.

The scarred man looked at her before finally noticing she'd barely touched her dish, "You look miserable, miss. No appetite?"

She gave him a look. He should know the answer to his own ridiculous question, surely, "...You could say that, yes."

He disapproved of the way she stabbed the cutlery into the meat without actually eating it. Odd behaviour from her, since she'd never played with her food much as a child, "Ah. Well, if there's anything we can do to..." He trailed off, not feeling the need to finish her sentence.

She heaved a sigh and sat back in her seat. She was just going to be bold and attempt to get them to speak of more interesting things, "What is some interesting news, around this place?"

There was a long pause before the short man cut into it, "What, uh... what do yeh mean?"

"You know what I mean, you simple little man!" She was becoming most irritable, "News, anything interesting... unusual, perhaps? I don't care. Talk business or something."

He just blinked at her, while the scarred man seemed to feel sorry for him. The bounty hunter still seemed to not care much as he watched from behind his bottle.

"Or... don't." This was pointless.

She was just about to stand up in a huff before the scarred man interjected, "Well, there's rumours that the indians are hangin' around down South a ways. Same ones that wrecked that caravan some time ago, I imagine."

The short man recovered enough to respond to his companion, "Down South? You sure 'bout that? Those were the ones hangin' 'round them caves, weren't they?

The bounty hunter added his input, "Thought they got pushed out by the war a while back?"

"Nah, I heard they're still hangin' around. Same area them marauders were in... what were they callin' themselves?"

The short man's response was instant, "'Grizzly Bloods', I thought. Somethin' tacky like that."

"Why would they hang around a place that's haunted like that, anyway?"

At this, Tanya perked up. Haunted? That meant a spirit of some kind... and where they existed, there was usually other supernatural sources as well. She leaned forward, "What's haunted? These caves you spoke of?"

"Yeah. Heard there was a lot 'o them indians sacrificin' people or somethin'."

"Or 'something'?." She needed to know more.

The scarred man piped in, "No one's come back from there without never wantin' to go back. Must say somethin' about what's there." He turned to the other man, "Didn't you say somethin' about getting Black to go look into it?"

The short man had been shaking his head in a 'don't continue' sort of manner before he'd even finished his sentence. The bounty hunter gave him a leer, "You never mentioned that."

"I- uh... admittedly wasn't going to... tell you right off the bat..." He was sweating, the cool night betraying his fear.

"Not this shit again. You know I hate it when you conveniently leave out details."

This man was attempting to grasp at strings that were long gone from his grip, "I-I-I was going to tell you! I just didn't want to, uh, bring it up right up front?"

The bounty hunter narrowed his eyes dangerously, "I always expect details upfront, Donnigan."

Not caring about this minor squabble they were in the midst of, she cut in, "Never come back, you say?" She thought about it for a moment. It was a better lead than no lead at all, she figured, "Bounty hunter! I say we go and do this little man's dirty work of our own accord."

The short man seemed like he was going to faint, "Y-you what?"

The bounty hunter was instantly turning that wicked glare upon her, "What?"

"Did you forget that your services are mine to direct now? You shall come with me to this place - take me there, since I know not where 'down south' is in this place - and we shall look into this matter."

"Bullshit we are-"

She snapped back at him, "We are going there, and you will be helping me."

The bounty hunter slammed a hand on the table, "You hired me. I say where the hell we go."

The other two men were clearly startled by the hostility between herself and the mercenary. She expected a simple rebuttal, not him attempting to push the scale in his favour!

The scarred man was the wiser of the four voices in the room as her looked between the pair, "Perhaps... you two should figure this out in the mornin'? It's been a long day, after all..."

The bounty hunter didn't need more reason to get away from her than that, and quickly snatched his belongings from the chair and stormed away. He probably saw it as him making the better decision to leave than continue an argument, but Tanya saw it merely as him running away from the inevitable.

The small room she'd been told was hers for the night was about as tacky as the rest of the place had been, from what she'd seen. It was completely dark now, save for the odd flicker of a light in the distance out the window - how nice it had such a commodity unlike the parlour from earlier. She'd seen the candlestick in here when she'd walked in, but had mentioned to the scarred man who was the only one who even wanted to be near her right now to leave it out. She lay in the darkness for a long, long time. Completely alone, save for the odd thought that'd cross her mind before she wished it away. She'd never gotten used to this, resting in another's homestead. She'd done so a few times in the past, but she always found herself unable to drift off into a proper sleep at all. It was easier to sleep in a tree, for crying out loud! How far she had fallen from the fanciful life of luxury that was hers a few thousand years ago...

This instance was different, however. She knew there was many reasons that were keeping her up, but the one she least expected to bother her the most was the heavy air. Earthrealm was devoid of magic in most instances, she definitely saw what they meant by that now. But she'd never realized how natural and ordinary it was for her - to be in-tune with her own arcane abilities and senses - until it was suddenly not there. She'd actually attempted to use her powers to light that candle she'd seen, but it proved futile. Nothing happened when it should have. It felt wrong and left her constantly uncomfortable and... uneasy. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt very 'naked' in this world. She did not have her weapons or her magic. She was relying purely upon her build and strength - she was never the strongest fighter, she knew that - to defend herself with. Even her words weren't of use here, since she didn't understand how people interacted or spoke besides the few she's been around.

She scoffed at herself as an unwanted thought crossed her mind: 'The bounty hunter is the only tether you have in this place.'

Bah! The man was a means to an end - a thing to be manipulated.

But was that thought wrong? The only tether in this place didn't seem like an incorrect metaphor. But that mercenary was insufferable, just like the world he came from was. If that didn't prove that others are molded by the foundations on which they're brought up upon, she wasn't sure what would. Besides, she only put up with the obnoxious miscreant for one reason: to get back to Outworld. In a sense, that did mean she was relying on him, didn't it?

She shifted uncomfortably on her back and she bored holes into the ceiling with her eyes, "I do not rely upon others for support. Even in a place like this."

Tanya wasn't quite sure why she'd said that out loud. Then again, Tanya wasn't quite sure of much else in this place anymore.

A/N: Just a quick reminder that there will most likely be a noticeable span of time in-between this chapter and the next one! I'm working out some extra details atm with the plot and refreshing my memory (thank you, Call of Juarez: Gunslinger for bringing me back to the Old West), so hopefully I'll get working on Chapter 8+ soon!
Chap. 7's done already, but I don't want to post it right away in case I change some things leading into Chapter 8.

Once again: I appreciate the reviews so, so much! Thank you! :D I always read them and they really make my day. The only reason I don't directly respond to them is so I don't take up too much space (I'm a rambler). I've been considering responding via PM, but I'm unsure if that's a good idea. Thoughts are appreciated!

Also one more thing - I got thinking earlier that Erron might not have had that leather mask he's got in MKX back in this era (he might've just had the bandanna like in his Alt. Outfit), so for the sake of preventing some weird continuity error or something, consider this one he's got some early version of it OTL