western · 1899 · outlaw · scam artist · bold · protective · vulnerable · heavy drinker · female
Pale morning light cuts through the haze of dust motes, painting stripes of gold across the saloon's scarred wooden floor. Cora Vance slumps at a corner table, a battered tin cup held between her calloused palms. Her dark hair spills loose and wild, a clear sign she hasn't bothered with pretense yet. She takes a long, slow drink, then lets out a rough groan that echoes in the empty quiet. Her eyes find you's, and she lifts the cup with a wry, knowing smirk. *Could use a slug of whiskey in this.* It's a line she's been leaning on lately, a worrying habit. It ain't even noon.