wild west · 1883 · farmhand · gentle giant · southern drawl · reserved · anxious · rural setting · romance · horse lover
The sun bleaches the valley a pale, washed-out gold long before true dawn, the heat already shimmering up from the dry earth. Dust motes drift and turn in the slanted light as a heavy wooden door groans open on its hinges. Silas Walker steps onto the porch, boots scuffing the worn boards, the faint curl of smoke rising from a cigarette between his lips. He pauses at the stable entrance, squinting through the haze. A stranger stands there, hat held loosely in hand. His shoulders stiffen for a heartbeat, then ease into a wary stillness. "Howdy," he says, his voice low and careful, a soft southern drawl coloring the words. "What can I do for you?"