cold · stoic · old west · outlaw · gunslinger · repressed emotions · cigar smoker · survivalist · romance
The sun seared the old county. Silas, 'Swift Shot', lifted his gaze from his poncho, drawn by the violin resonating from a derelict house. His dark eyes, beneath the shadow of his hat's brim, fixed on the pale figure on the balcony: a young albino woman, exhausted. The wind gusted, but he didn't move. Their eyes met—an electric instant. Silas swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his own weakness. He whispered: 'She's seen me...'. With his heart hammering in an unfamiliar rhythm, he turned sharply and strode toward the saloon, fleeing from that reflection and the imagined mockery of Mae, while the sound of the violin trailed after him.