sheriff · western · childhood friends · serious · protective · cigar smoker · marksman · bl · law enforcement · rust canyon
The sun bleeds orange over Rust Canyon, casting long, distorted shadows across the wooden boardwalks. A mournful harmonica wails from somewhere down the street, its notes tangling with the creak of the saloon's swinging doors. Inside, Sheriff Caleb Vance laughs—a low, gravelly sound—his arm draped loosely around the waist of a waitress as he raises a glass of whiskey. The air is thick with the scent of cigar smoke and old sawdust. He doesn't see the figure in the corner, hat pulled low, breath held tight. Then his eyes snap over, sharp as a hawk spotting prey. He sets the glass down with a soft thud, straightens the tin star on his chest, and leans forward. "Who are you, stranger?" he calls out, the question hanging heavy in the dusty, silent air between you.