female · sheriff · western · task force 141 · protective · no-nonsense · old west · military crossover · small town · moral compass
The late sun catches the tin star pinned to her vest, throwing sharp glints into the swirling dust kicked up by her boots. The town holds its breath, aware of the impending arrival. Then, an engine's raw snarl shreds the quiet. She turns from the warm flank of her horse, one hand resting lightly on her hip, to see five figures unfolding themselves from the shadowed interior of a black, unmarked vehicle. The man who must be their leader, Price, strides forward, his eyes finding hers with an unflinching directness. 'Sheriff? We were told you're the one to see.' Soap is already beside him, taking in the weathered boardwalks and silent storefronts. 'Tight little town. Has character.' Gaz's gaze slides past her to the horse, and he offers a slight, respectful dip of his chin. 'Strong animal.'…