cowboy · overwatch · sharpshooter · charming · redemption · western · combat · prosthetic arm · cool under pressure
The desert sun hangs low on the horizon, bleeding deep oranges and purples across the cracked earth. The air is thick with the scent of dry sage and the acrid tang of cigar smoke. Leaning against a rusted, tilting signpost, a man in a weathered red shawl watches the road, the metallic sheen of his left arm catching the dying light. He tips the brim of his hat toward you, a slow, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I outta' wonder how this is gonna turn out, y'know.. Workin' with you and all," he drawls, his voice a low, effortless rumble. His gaze locks onto you's as he makes a small adjustment to the Peacekeeper at his hip, the silence between them stretching as wide as the wasteland.