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Shep cannot help giving Carry a strained look as she tries to make him into something he is not. "Coincidence. Nothing more." He takes a step toward the old woman, his steely gray eyes fixed on hers as he tries to understand what she is.

"And what would you have of me?" he asks, his voice intentionally cool. "Would you raise me up as a false prophet? Make me a figurehead for a movement that can only end in bloodshed?" He draws a slow breath. "I am just a broken man trying to survive in a world that is tearing itself apart."

Then his voice and gaze soften. "I am sorry if I gave the wrong impression. I only wished to offer a small light of hope in an otherwise dark world."

Shep cannot help giving Carry a strained look as she tries to make him into something he is not. "Coincidence. Nothing more." He takes a step toward the old woman, his steely gray eyes fixed on hers as he tries to understand what she is.

"B..but Shep!" Carry looks mortified, "I'm sorry."

"And what would you have of me?" he asks, his voice intentionally cool. "Would you raise me up as a false prophet? Make me a figurehead for a movement that can only end in bloodshed?" He draws a slow breath. "I am just a broken man trying to survive in a world that is tearing itself apart."

"You're hardly false and definitely not a prophet," the old woman smiles, "You give hope in a world where hope is a rare commodity," she hugs Carry, who seems nearly inconsolable for putting Shep on the spot, "You're exactly what we need. The voice of hope. You surviving this long is a testament to your strength!"

Shep's voice and gaze soften. "I am sorry if I gave the wrong impression. I only wished to offer a small light of hope in an otherwise dark world."

"Exactly!" The old woman agrees, "Won't you come back again sometime? You're story reviews. YOUR views and your compassion is what we seek."

Carry steps in front of the old woman, interrupting her, "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm so sorry. I just... She's right. I wanted you all for myself but seeing you talk to the people... How could I deny them this? Tonight alone may have changed their lives for the better." Panic seems to reflect in her eyes, "Do you want to go? I have other things to show that won't... put you in the spotlight."

He gives Carry a warm smile, the tension from moments earlier already fading. He reaches up and gently rests his hands on her upper arms. "You did nothing wrong. Your enthusiasm is refreshing, and I’m happy that I was able to give these people some hope. I just don’t want to give anyone false illusions about who I am, either."

He lets his hands slide down and away before addressing the older woman over Carry’s shoulder. "Thank you for letting me speak to your crowd. Perhaps the next time I come this way, I’ll join you again. For now, though, the night is still young, and I apparently have more exploring to do with Carry as my guide."

Shep gives Carry a warm smile, the tension from moments earlier already fading. He reaches up and gently rests his hands on her upper arms. "You did nothing wrong. Your enthusiasm is refreshing, and I’m happy that I was able to give these people some hope. I just don’t want to give anyone false illusions about who I am, either."

He lets his hands slide down and away before addressing the older woman over Carry’s shoulder. "Thank you for letting me speak to your crowd. Perhaps the next time I come this way, I’ll join you again. For now, though, the night is still young, and I apparently have more exploring to do with Carry as my guide."

The old woman nods, "We eagerly await your return," as Carry smiles, takes Shep's hand and leads him on a journey through past the crowd as Karak't a few others nod to him as they exit the area. They follow some wet, muddy trails back into town as the he notices the temperatures have dropped. A few snowflakes are visible passing the now illuminated street lights.

They arrive at the 'Silver Dollar' saloon, where sounds similar to a lawnmower violating a cat emanate from inside as a form of karaoke. She stops short and turns to Shep, "Do you like to sing?"

Shep notices the sign outside has the picture of a coin that he's only seen in some books. A silver dollar coin along with a small footnote, "Showgirls inside," flashing in neon underneath. Inside, looks a bit rowdy but nothing violent. Cheers and a few boos erupt as the current singer continues her feral screaming to distorted guitars using a bit too much crunch in their sound mixers.

Shep winces as a sudden off-key, top-of-the-lungs verse floats out the door. oO( I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be that bad! )Oo He doesn’t voice the thought out loud. After all, at least she’s got the guts to get up there and perform—likely more than most of the people booing her would do.

"Hmm. 'Like' is such a strong word," he teases. "I’m not especially good at it. Never really had the voice to do a song the justice I think it deserves. I’ve been playing harmonica a long time, though, and I feel like I do a lot better with that."

Shep winces as a sudden off-key, top-of-the-lungs verse floats out the door. oO(I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be that bad!)Oo He doesn’t voice the thought out loud. After all, at least she’s got the guts to get up there and perform, which is likely more than most of the people booing her would do.

"Hmm. 'Like' is such a strong word," he teases. "I’m not especially good at it. Never really had the voice to do a song the justice I think it deserves. I’ve been playing harmonica a long time, though, and I feel like I do a lot better with that."

Carry tilts her head, giving Shep the kind of encouraging smile usually reserved for puppies learning to sit. “What about using your harmonica while you sing?” she suggests, as if unveiling a master plan. “You’re very good with it,” She lifts a finger, "Hold that thought, maestro," and marches toward the DJ booth.

The DJ, wearing earmuffs so oversized they look like he’s preparing for a lunar landing, beams at her, “Welcome back, Carry. What do you have for me today?” She slides the paper toward him and adds a wink so dramatic it could qualify as a stage direction. He gives her a thumbs‑up, the universal sign for your chaos has been accepted, and she heads back.

Onstage, the previous singer, whose performance could only be described as “molested squealing cat," flees the microphone, leaving behind emotional damage as a new woman steps up as the DJ announces her and the local community song she’s about to tackle. Her voice is… pleasantly welcoming compared to her predecessor. Occasionally wandering off‑key like it’s sightseeing, but still a massive improvement over the last vocalist.

Carry immediately starts lip‑syncing along, sliding her arms around Shep’s shoulders with theatrical flourish. “So,” she says, swaying with the music, “sing something from where you’re from.”

Shep contemplates for a bit as he tries to think of something he knows the words to or can invent as he goes along. "Okay, give me a minute to think." Finally he says, "I think I've got an idea." as he regretfully disentangles himself from Carry again oO( I could get used to that. Oo), he muses.

Walking up to the DJ he waits until the man has time for him before asking if he's ever heard a tune called Red River Valley. He has other names ready for the same song hoping that one of them might ring a bell. "Perhaps locally it might be called Bright Silvereno Valley or something like that." If that doesn't work, he has a few other ideas that he can run past the DJ for what the song might be called now.

Shep contemplates for a bit as he tries to think of something he knows the words to or can invent as he goes along. "Okay, give me a minute to think." Finally he says, "I think I've got an idea." as he regretfully disentangles himself from Carry again oO( I could get used to that)Oo he muses.

Walking up to the DJ he waits until the man has time for him before asking if he's ever heard a tune called Red River Valley. He has other names ready for the same song hoping that one of them might ring a bell. "Perhaps locally it might be called Bright Silvereno Valley or something like that."

"Oh heck yeah! I haven't heard that one in a while." The DJ grins as he gets Shep's name, "You're up in two songs. Right after Carry! You two know each other? She's awesome!"

He notices Carry watching, almost nervous what the DJ may be telling him.

Shep gives the DJ a small, knowing smile. "We met earlier tonight. She’s been showing me around town." He glances back toward Carry, his expression softening. "Seems I got lucky and found the best guide in Silvereno."

With a nod of understanding, Shep turns and heads back to Carry. A mischievous grin touches his face. "He says you're trouble. Mischievous, persuasive, and completely untrustworthy." His face breaks into a grin as he tells the lie.

Shep gives the DJ a small, knowing smile. "We met earlier tonight. She’s been showing me around town." He glances back toward Carry, his expression softening. "Seems I got lucky and found the best guide in Silvereno."

“You sure did,” the DJ replies, full of righteous indignation. “I hate how people treat her, but she’s always welcome here!” He pats Shep’s shoulder like he’s knighting him. “If you’re with her, I can already tell you’ve got a good voice.” He waves at Carry. She waves back, glowing.

With a nod of understanding, Shep turns and heads back to Carry. A mischievous grin touches his face. "He says you're trouble. Mischievous, persuasive, and completely untrustworthy." His face breaks into a grin as he tells the lie.

Carry’s smile drops like someone unplugged it. “What…?”

Before she can spiral, the speakers explode with the DJ’s voice, “Up next is Carry!” As Shep’s grin widens, because timing is everything.