Each day she became bolder with her gun, her ability growing at a faster rate than her confidence with the weapon but that too came soon enough. The time she spent trailing after the deputy and the Marshall learning all the time was now very evident. She knew to keep the safety off her gun once she removed it from her holster, she knew to watch for the slightest tick in body language that might give a man away. She knew not to be hasty in firing off a round in case any innocent was about but she had also learned to be swift. Sarah didn't think she'd ever be quite as fast as the Marshall himself but she was almost on par with the deputy and her constant practice with gun in hand had given her welts along her palm. Callouses that broke and blistered and made it necessary for her to learn how to shoot with her other hand as well.<br/><br/>When she woke that morning she felt different somehow, she had gone to the Marshall's house only to find it empty and she figured he was at the jail. About to head there she stopped, a small bell began ringing calling the few church goers to service. Without considering the implications, she moved inside the house and took down one of his wives frocks and carefully dressed herself, tying her hair in a loose bun at the back of her head before putting a shawl over her shoulders and heading to where the church was. The small wooden building stood in the middle of the town, looking no different than the school hall really. The doors were about to close but she stepped in just in time.<br/><br/>It had been a long time since she had been to a service and somehow she knew she was at the end of her journey. She was practically ready, there was only one thing holding her back now and that was lack of information. Sarah needed to know where they were. The psalms and hymns all returned to her and feeling ridiculously hypocritical she got up and left the pew and the church, glancing back only once. How could she sit there when she was intent on killing three men? She should have turned back to the house and changed before heading to the jail house but she didn't. Sarah turned instead and walked to where she had now been a thousand times before. Opening the door she stepped inside, closing it behind her she glanced to the desk of the Marshall.<br/><br/>A single flower stood in a vase on his desk and she quirked an eyebrow at the sight of it, she would not have imagined him for someone that liked fresh cut flowers.<br/><strong>"I'm ready"</strong>the words were simple and as she stood there waiting for him to ask what for or to agree that she was, she cursed herself for not apologising first for taking his wives frock or entering his house without permission.