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Skye looked in theough the glass and knocked on the door simply. "We're closed, buddy. Get outta 'ere!" Croaked a sour old man who was mopping up the floors of the eatery. Skye wasn't much of a talker, so he just stood at the door and knocked again. The man stormed to the door, his mop over his shoulder and a gun in his belt. Skye knew where this was going, but he didn't fear the man and his gun. When the man opened the door and opened his mouth to yell, Skye took out the money and simply said, "I would like as much bread as this can buy. Give me that and I shall be on my way." The man was shocked that this strange, white haired fellow was at his door, just asking for food. It kind of made sense. The man was rather pale. The elderly man was still rather skeptical though. He pulled a gun from his belt and narrowed his eyes at Skye. "Don't you screw with me, hooligan! I know the tales! You youngsters are always trying to play tricks on me! But I won't have it!" That senile old man just went on. Skye let out a breath. He would have to wait until this man stopped before he could explain himself.





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