Clint Walker was sat at a table in the corner of the coffee shop, a half-eaten cake in front of him as he sipped a hot chocolate. He had a hood pulled over his head to try and hide his face, although he cursed his luck that it seemed to draw more attention his way. He was desperate to get out of there as soon as possible, he had already lingered in this town longer than he intended and he felt like he would soon have unwanted attention.