“You’re right. Would you mind...” Molly gestured her hand to one of the horses. Being one of the many princesses that she was, Molly would not step anywhere near one of the horses unless it was necessary. She wasn’t scared of them... “Do you know how to ride?”

There was a genuine smile plastered on her face at the mentioning of Mary-Beth’s mother— how sweet. “Get on top of...” There was a small pause before she glanced back at Mary. “Of course I can get on her, I’ll just need your assistance.” Yeah, assistance... that was all.

A gentle sigh of relief exempted from Molly’s lungs. There was no way she was going to be able to provide herself up onto Mary-Beth’s horse without her help. “Thank you hun,” Molly nimbly accepted the woman’s hand and prodded herself up onto the horse. This felt... alright.

As Mary-Beth pushed Molly to sit in a more proper angle, a delicate sigh breezed past her lips. “Off to town we go!” She announced it as if there was a party of them going out, but in reality it was just Mary-Beth and her horse... that was more than a party for her.

As the horse juttered forward, Molly calmly slouched back. She didn’t need to be so proper anymore, did she? “This town? No, I have not. The furthest I’ve left camp was out by the trees to smoke, but that’s it. What about you Mary-Beth?”

And that’s what Molly did, she relaxed. “Decent? By what standards?” She narrowed her eyes goofily as she fluffed out her emerald dress and watched Mary-Beth’s horse pick up into a gallop.

Molly quirked an eyebrow just by Mary-Beth’s description of the town. It must be ordinary in its own way. “Ah, I see. Well, let’s hope for a saloon then. I haven’t had a proper drink in ages...”

Some of y’all are absolutely bonkers. My GOD.

Molly thought about going to the saloon over. The Irish woman just hoped neither one of them got too drunk. “Oh, you’re paying? Good. I don’t have any money anyways.” Molly /really/ was an object back at camp. She didn’t do much to fend for the Van Der Linde gang.

Molly wasn’t planning on having many drinks— the woman couldn’t even remember the last time she drank something hard. “Right... friends,” It still was a strange concept considering Molly only ever talked to Dutch and gave all the women back at camp absolute shit.

They both were hopeful then. “I know, it’s just strange having someone else to talk to— nevertheless have someone actually listen to me.” She slightly whipped her red curls back as she watched the horse’s head dip forward. Molly was more than grateful for Mary’s hospitality.

// i apologize for the inactivity from my end. i’m going to make myself a new layout and reply to everything once i have the chance. thank y’all for being patient with me.

Molly presently appeared to be fighting slumber. The occasional head-tilt forward and battle of the eyes to stay open was visual /and/ apparent. She of course was drowsy, but she didn't want to sleep. . .

Molly was hopelessly bored and the last thing she resorted to was. . . —— — drawing. Pencil to paper, tongue to lips, and eyes to reference. It was safe to say that she was absolutely struggling at something she was mediocre at. If only /someone/ could help her out.