"Not talkin' about changing the past, love, talking about not drowning under it," she says as she swallows the last of her drink, resting the heavy glass lightly on the dark-stained wood of the bar, sliding the bottom of it over the smooth surface. She tipped a few coins out of the small purse and slid it back to the pouch on her belt, buckling it in. She watched as the woman made her rounds, rousting the few burbling drunks left in the place from their seats, sending them out into the night.<br/><br/>She smiled a bit when asked about the room, "I'd rather share one, Sweet, but if empty's all you got, well I guess I've no right to split hairs," she says with a bit of a laugh. With a yawn, she leaned back, stretching herself out, "God knows I could do with a good washing, anyway. Country out here's not very easy on travelers, you know."