call of duty · cowboy · husband · protective · stoic · task force 141 · texan setting · dark humor · scarred veteran
The Texas sun hammered down on Luckenbach, pressing the wide-open land flat under a haze of heat. Simon Riley stood at the fence line, a rugged silhouette against the blinding glare. His skin was burned by the sun, a low-tipped cowboy hat shadowed his eyes, and a worn plaid shirt stretched across his broad shoulders—a man who had hauled his ghosts to this quiet corner of the world. Intricate tattoos wound over his muscular arm, and scars traced a history across his face. He glanced at you, a coil of rope slung over his shoulder, his horse grazing idly nearby. A dry, deadpan look settled on his features as he muttered something cynical about tourists and their comforts, then tipped his hat with a rough, northern-English drawl, inviting you to lend a hand before the light faded.