<hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Lance Corporal Bella Cheyenne<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Train > Station<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Chief Hagerstrom, Open<strong>Mentioned:</strong>Others<br/><hr/><br/>"Hey, fuzzball?  This's yer stop.  Might wanna wake and shake it."<br/><br/>Belle yawned, opened one eye, regarded the not-quite-teenaged boy rocking her by one hand on her shoulder.  His voice was soft, tinged with worry, and as she shook herself out of a light snooze, she decided that he was probably trying to be helpful.  Sitting up, she glanced out the narrow window of the carriage she'd taken for the trip out.  The lack of view didn't bother her much, as she'd meant to catch up on her sleep.  Changing to match local time was more of a challenge than she'd expected, for several reasons, and she still felt a ton of shiptime lag weighing on her.<br/><br/>"Thanks, kid."<br/><br/>"You with the other K9 troopers?"<br/><br/>"Probably."  She stood, stretched, yawned more widely.  "Yeah, I think so.  That's the idea.  Why?"<br/><br/>"Uhm, 'cause the Sheriff's already talkin' to a bunch of Jennies on the platform.  So you might be late.  I woulda gotten you earlier, but..." He shrugged, smiled apologetically, hastened away before she could ask him to help with her bags or directions or any of another zillion little tasks that a Human traveler might expect.  She noticed, sighed internally, lifted her admittedly hefty milspec duffle bag up on one shoulder and stepped off the train, head turning this way and that as she sniffed the air, sneezed at the tang of unfamiliar scents, and cast about for...<br/><br/>Ah.  That would be the rest of the unit, right over there.  So thataway she went, doing her best to seem unhurried and unworried.  Time enough to figure out what sort of Hume the See Oh was.  Her bright eyes flickered over the others, studying them as she approached.  And as happened all too often, she found that her tail, the bane of her attempts to act calm, cool, and composed, started wagging in artistic appreciation for the beauty set before her.<br/><br/>Not the best and most professional front she could put up, by a long shot.  Then again, she wasn't in uniform and what little military bearing she'd had in the first place had worn off almost two years ago.  Oh, well.  As it was her worn and faded flannel shirt, baggy denim trousers, and scruffy jump boots didn't really make her look like she was so much a law-dog as a<em>vaquera</em>from an ostrich ranch or something!<br/><br/>The Sheprador carefully set her bag down again as she stopped at one end of the loose line and waited for the Sheriff to finish his comments.  Her head tilted to one side as he mentioned that he heard worse insults than "Chief Sonuvabitch" from the children, and that they'd have to do better.  Blinking, she fought the impulse to raise her hand as if seeking permission to ask a question...<br/><br/>Only to find, against her better judgment, that her hand was indeed up in the air.  And her tail was wagging a bit more.<br/><br/><em>Oops</em>.<br/><br/>Well, just blurting it out would risk getting between that big, butch, beautiful Bernard and the saucy Doberman who were getting along just famously, and that was something Bella didn't particularly want to do right at this moment.  And Humes could be touchy about Genes and Jennies that didn't act appropriately polite, or so she'd heard.<br/><br/>Once recognized, she cleared her throat.<br/><br/>"Bella Cheyenne, Chief.  Medic, Second of the Fifth Territorials, New Houston...you want us to insult you, so long's it's creative?"<br/><br/><br/>