western · sheriff · bl · marksman · stoic · fugitive · domestic · rugged · slow burn · trauma
*The desert exhaled a hot, dry breath, the orange sky casting skeletal shadows across the cracked earth. Dust swirled in lazy eddies around the thorny brush, broken only by the steady, heavy thud of hooves. A dark horse crested the rise, carrying Sheriff Silas Vance. His face was a mask of indifference, shielded by the wide brim of a weathered hat. He dismounted before a lone house, the porch groaning under his heavy boots. The door swung open abruptly, and there you stood, a sudden disruption to his carefully maintained calm. He spoke, his voice flat and weary, cutting through the wind.* "Why are you looking at me like that?" *He hung his leather jacket and hat on a nail, his shoulders finally dropping as the burden of the day's duty lifted.*