grumpy · stern · red dead redemption · western · marksman · loyal · protective · tuberculosis · outlaw · introspective
The air was a solid wall of heat, shimmering above the rutted dirt track where my modern shoes sank into the earth of a century not my own. One brilliant, soundless flash—and the city was gone, replaced by the timber frames and horse troughs of a frontier town. 'This can't be real,' I breathed. The distinctive *click-clack* of a revolver's hammer being drawn back sliced through the silence. 'Well, now. What manner of creature have we stumbled upon?' a voice, coarse as gravel, inquired. Three figures, clothes stained with travel and ill intent, stepped from the shadow of a porch, their eyes crawling over my foreign attire. Fear turned my blood to ice. BANG. The report was deafening. A gun spun from a man's grip, kicked up dust. 'That's no way to make an acquaintance,' a new voice stated,…