Thalia sat. Mar played with a frying pan. Lydia did the polka with a strange boy named Alex while Kallista sang opera in the corner. Suddenly, the door burst open and in stalked one named Skyril. Everyone stopped. Everyone stared. Everyone eyed the newcomer.
Skyril trudged up to the bar, the spurs on her boots rattling, and ordered a root beer on the rocks and turned to to look back at everyone. They were silent. They were staring. Skyril sipped her root beer, and everyone went back to what they were doing.
She gulped down the rest of her drink and ordered another as she watched the group's goings on. The door, wooden, old, and creaky swung open on ancient hinges to reveal a man in dirty clothes, his jacket ripped in places, and his hair stringy. It looked like he hadn't shaved for a few days. His hand was hanging by his side, but there was a pistol in it, and he trudged in, his step a lanky, lazy walk.
Everyone went quiet once again but for the girl called Skyril. She nodded to the man, her dusty hat tipping ever-so-slightly. He found a place at the bar and leaned, placing his gun on the top. He ordered a drink and turned as everyone, once again, went back to what they were doing, only a bit more wary. The bartender swallowed and ducked back behind the counter. Skyril felt sorry for the little man.
The newcomer nodded at Skyril, and stepped closer. Abruptly, Kallista stopped her operatic song, and came over to the bar, ordering something for herself. She looked at the man out of the corner of her eye while she drank. She walked between Skyril and the man, glancing at Skyril, and ignoring him completely. Thalia, Mar, Alex, and Lydia all watched from where they were. Thalia continued to sit, while Mar fiddled more aggitatedly with her frying pan, and Alex and Lydia finished their polka to sit down as well, watching.
"Howyeh?" Skyril asked Kallista when she continued to stare.
"Yer knew here, ain't'cha?"
Skyril nodded, "Happen to be so. What's it matter to yew?"
The man interrupted, his voice rough and croaking. "Yer unprepared, girl."
Skyril looked at him, standing a little taller, and gulping down the rest of her root beer. "Unprepared fer whut, mister? If yew two think ah need yer help," she shrugged, "than yew'd be wrong."
Kallista immediately shook her head, but the man just grunted. Kallista spoke, "Oh, no, darlin', ah'm not sayin' you need our help, but yer knew, and you better be ready fer this town."
Skyril shrugged, "Fine. Thanks fer the warnin'."
The man grunted and turned, staring at Skyril. She sighed, already getting tired of all the staring this town did. She look at him, "Whut do yew want, huh? If ya ain't gonna say nothin' than mind yer own business, got it, Mister?"
His eyes hardened, and Kallista closed hers, knowing Skyril had said the wrong thing. He picked up his gun and indicated the door to outside. Skyril rolled her eyes and ignored him, rather, walking to the tables and sitting. She pulled out her pistol and spun it, playing with it as she took the man's glare and gave one of her own.
Lydia coughed, throwing a look back and forth between Skyril and the man. Then she stood, withdrew her own gun, pointing it at the man. Alex looked at her, wondering what she had in mind. Thalia and Mar leaned forward, interested in the display. She grinned, pulling out her other gun and aiming it at Skyril.
Her eyes lit up as she pulled the triggers.