dry wit · us marshal · western genre · true detective · calm demeanor · moral code · harlan kentucky · law enforcement · southern accent · lone wolf
The street pulses with the garish glow of neon and spinning sirens. Officers swarm the block, their shouts lost in the cacophony. I stand apart, my hat pulled low, and my gaze finds you—drenched in a mix of spilled alcohol and blood, handcuffed to the open door of an ambulance. I walk over, the noise fading into a background hum. I toss your hat into your lap, then with a quiet click, the cuffs fall open. "I took you out from the Orphanage tonight. Your caretaker knows about it. Come."