<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/e/e4/Natehunter.png/437px-Natehunter.png)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Nathan Hunter<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Senior Deputy (Law Dogs)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Vigilance Ranch<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Margeurite, Closed<br/><hr/>He stepped in carefully, closing the door behind him.  She'd been able to offer some small cleaning the night before – little more than a bowl of water and a rag, and most of it to clean the wound in his side.  But he still clearly intended to wait for a true bath until he'd returned to his home in Gomorra.  He kept a polite distance, looking like he wished to have a hat in hands.<br/><br/><strong>“Of course,”</strong>he offered.  He held the door for her, stepping back, still intent on treating her like a lady despite her attire or the manner of their meeting.  It was an old, easy role, and his proper upbringing wanted to assert itself naturally around her.  In Gomorra, he'd grown used to being a Law Dog, a certain roughness required by the profession.  She made him feel like a teenager, struggling to mind all his manners at a formal and feeling perpetually out of place.<br/><br/><strong>“I'll look,”</strong>he promised, but his tone didn't suggest much optimism.<br/><br/>He looked back to the dress she'd laid out.<strong> “If I can't find one – shall I bring you that?  I can try to find a linen, if you prefer.”</strong><br/><br/>He led the way out through the house – there was the smell of a breakfast being prepared, something with eggs and potatoes, and he led the way across a yard of red-dirt.  The shed was built up just against the barn, and behind it a large corral had a half dozen horses nibbling at feedsacks, the rancher's son tending them carefully.  The shed was a woodshed, with extra planks and lumber that had been stacked carefully.  A simple galvanized tub had been taken down from the wall, and set over a makeshift firepit to heat the water.  The harsh, lye soap that was so ubiquitous in the west had been set out as well, and a wood-handled brush with rough bristles for scrubbing.<br/><br/>The lawman opened the door - the shed was just building a fair amount of steam - the shed had been well weatherproofed.<br/><br/><strong>"I'll wait outside,"</strong>he offered.  "But... take your time."