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The scene at the church lingered in your mind for various reasons, but a very specific one stuck with you right now.
Your gaze trailed away from your inhuman companions, away from the endless wilderness stretching across Sacramento... and back to your belt, upon which you felt there should be a holster.
You'd rather not have to resort to such methods, of course. If all went well, this could all be resolved through intimidation and diplomacy-- without a need to shed blood, without a need to take a life... and yet, you couldn't help but ponder the likelihood of such a thing, unwilling to allow yourself the naivete needed to consider it a certainty.
In search of both shade and something to shoot, you called for your team to follow you back to Sacramento.
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The amount of ammo you'd bought was, frankly, ridiculous. Almost as much as you could carry. But, you figured, your revolver deserved more than it could hold. It wasn't exactly heavy-duty, and you hadn't enough in cash to buy both a new gun and plenty of ammo for it yet... so you felt it wouldn't hurt to stock up on much as possible.
Now, as you waved goodbye to the cashier and let your team briefly marvel at the strange boxes you'd stuffed your haversack with, you let your Webley-Pryse join its ammo and finagled your way around carrying Mary once more. Soon enough, you told yourself, she'd be able to join you by your side again. By the time this whole raid was over, surely, she'd walk alongside Aster and Taylor as a free mon once more...
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