Xavier stood as he watched the constables lead the crazy witch away, he felt as if he had just been in a brawl, not physically but emotionally.  His heart pounded in his chest, a burst of adrenaline preparing his body for a physical fight that wasn't going to happen, it was his soul that was in peril.  He needed a drink, much of his training involved keeping his emotions in check, a calm dispensation of justice was required to maintain order in the realm.  The way he had shaken the poor pitifully mad creature made him feel ashamed, he had nearly lost control.  Part of him wanted to strangle her, to silence the words that reached so deep into him, violating him in a way he had never felt before.  The other part of him wanted to take her body for his own pleasure, the flesh of a woman outside of marriage was a sin he had hazarded more than he should, but to take a woman by force that was something else entirely.  He had never crossed such a line, but for a moment he had been ready to do so, craved it like nothing he had craved before.  It was as if all the passion he had bottled up inside of him was desperate to escape.<br/><br/>Once Dolly was no longer in sight, Xavier blinked his eyes as if awaking from some kind of trance.  He turned to head back into the town proper, there was a tavern near where he stabled his horse, he would mull things over then head to mad girl's cell.  He passed a familiar face, a thief and swindler he had run out of more than one town.  Normally he would have stopped and searched his wares, roughed him up a little, make him feel like it might be best to move along.  Today though, with  everything that was swirling inside of him, he had to make do with a stern glance, just enough to let Shorty know he knew he was there and would be keeping an eye on him.<br/><br/>Walking into the tavern the general merriment of the town was on full display.  Oh how he had craved such company just a short hour or so ago, but now he wanted to be alone.  He ordered a shot and a chaser at the bar, but took it to a table to sit alone.  His adoptive father had always told him his parents were poor but pious peasants, drowned in a tragic flood.  He was found miraculously floating in a basket, an almost biblical beginning for a child.  Raised to value the discipline of the Order as the salvation of society above the chaos of the beasts both around and within humans.  He thought on Mad Dolly's words, had she been right about the fat man and his wives?  Was it guilt or witchcraft that killed him?  If she was right about the fat man, could she be right about his parents?  Would he really throw away a lifetime of dedication for something so mad?  He tossed back his shot but mulled over the chaser as he thought. He was tempted to have more but the last thing he needed was to be fogged with alcohol as he questioned Dolly and her demons, as well as his own.