Roux played his gutair with talent and a rhythmic beat with those he had picked up on his journeys. Laughter filled the boat they danced on. The night was wonderous with the stars up high in the sky, and the boat docked at the shore of the little French town everyone on that boat had grown rather fond of.

Roux smiled. He hadn't felt this way in a rather long time. The feeling of knowing you were in the right place with the right people. Everyone had been invited back to his boat after the party of the lively but sickly old woman, Armande. The boat was covered in bowls of different forms of chocolate and foods as well as the drinks.

The boat rocked back and forth, and the music was loud, but the little French town, which was judgemental to outsiders and crue to those who felt differently of the world. The strict rules they followed, their religion controlling their lives. Of course, this was all being reported back to Mayor Reymund by that drunk Serge.