Brandon muttered cursed under his breath as tried to extract a particularly stubborn stone from his geldings hoof. After weeks on the trail living on beans , he really didn't want to spend any longer away from the promised food and whiskey, but if he ever wanted to get back onto the trail he'd didn't need a lame horse.<br/><br/>That's why it took a few minutes for the blond Irishman to rejoin them in the room just before the saloon's proprietor returned with the grub.<br/><br/>Without any ceremony, he grabbed himself a plate - heavy on potato, light on chili - and took a seat in the middle of the bar, half turned to keep everyone in his sight.<br/><br/>"Cheers." He mumbled as started shoveling the food in. Taking a breath, inbetween mouthfuls he adds, "Name's Brandon. And as temptin' as a warm bed be, I think that we'd be more likely t' find out what manner o' beastie is terrorising the town if one o' us spend t' night out there on t' porch.<br/><br/>"Bait, if you will."