<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a1/Walker.png)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Walker (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9811695#msg9811695)<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Sioux Union<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Der Wafflehaus<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Dora, Open<br/><hr/><br/>Walker blinked at the beautiful woman as she spoke to him and paused, trying to remember English words to answer her.  Disappointed, he shook his head at her.  Every part of him wanted to go in, sit at one of her tables and watch her as she served food and maybe even talk with her but he had no money.  “Thank you for the offer but I am lacking white man money.”  He finally managed to get out.<br/><br/>He took a deep breath as he heard the shock at the idea of serving a 'redskin'.  He was used to the sentiment and, really, it didn't upset him.  Most of his tribe felt the same way about the white man.  It did serve as a reminder that he had no place staring at a very pale woman.  If John Bloody Knife found out that he had, on rare occasion, found pleasure with a white woman, his life would become harder than it already was.  On one side of things, their Chief believed that a peaceful relationship with the white man in Gomorra was necessary and several agreed with the Chief.  On the other side of things, John Bloody Knife simply wanted everyone in Gomorra dead.  He hated the white man severely and several of the tribe agreed with him – looking forward to a time in which John Bloody Knife was in charge.  Walker was stuck in the middle of it all.  Those that thought peace was necessary were pleased with him and those that wanted violence thought that Walker was becoming too close to the enemy.<br/><br/>Her voice pulled him back to the present.  He didn't really want to leave and her repeating the invitation made him nod.  “If you don't mind me just sitting with a beverage for a bit.”  He could afford something to drink at least.  It would cut into the teeny funds he had but, looking at her again, it was worth it.<br/><br/>“Thank you.”  He offered his sincere gratitude as he entered the Wafflehaus.  Careful to avoid the man who had been bothered by his presence, he picked out a chair that would allow him the best vantage to both watch the waitress but also the rest of the patrons.  He wasn't seeking any trouble.