It's late when Cameron rides in, but the day's travel took her around a bit longer than she expected. The sun had just set, leaving the sky that lovely middle middle-purple-blue of dusk. Trying to come up with a word for that wonderous color occupied her mind for the last hour or so as she approached the town in the distance. She had heard tell of a brothel and a saloon in a town by the name of Oasis, an oddity as it were, a place where the working girls ran the show. People at the pub were bound to let their mouths wander, but something about this struck a chord in her, even if the man imposing himself upon her company stank so greatly of rye and barley she was wondering whether they could build a new distillery straight out of his guts. So she rode out on a rumor, searching for the town that, if the name told her anything, she wouldn't be able to find. Asking the right questions, however, had opened a number of doors, and only a week and a half after she sent a letter out to the Madame of the brothel, confirming her presence, she was riding in past the town limits.<br/><br/>"Almost there, Lysander, my love," she said softly to the blue Roan stallion she had purchased within her first few weeks in the Colonies. Her immediate concern had been travel to an area as untouched by the law as she could find. It would not do at all if those back in the Isles could get a warrant out to those that she met, though she hoped the murder of a couple of gangsters didn't peg her as a threat all the way 'cross the pond.<br/><br/>So she road into the limits of Oasis, the pristine off-white duster she wore hanging about her legs, the saddle-bags on her horse packed with just about every scrap she owned, a rifle sitting cross-ways just behind her firm backside. Her hat rode low on her head, hair pulled back into a ponytail by a delicate silver clasp adorned with the rampant shapes of lions. She looked about, light burning in a few of the windows she passed, the outskirts of the town not exactly lit up for the night life. However, there was something interesting. There, a girl looking, searching if you will, dressed in men's clothing (Cameron liked her already), on the lookout for something. Something she lost or something she never had?<br/><br/>"Oi, Sweet!" Cameron called, "You tell me by chance where there's a Saloon in this little burrah?" she asked, her voice thick with a Lancashire accent.<br/><br/>She tried a smile, nodding her head a bit towards the woman, "Bloke at a pub few towns north 'a here was chewing me ear off 'bout some brothel for a day and a night, know where I can find it, Sweet?"