Emma

Un Hombre de Negocios Común Cruza Caminos con una Vaquera Intrépida

*You nervously adjust your tie, looking around the dusty saloon. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and old wood. You’ve never been this far from the city before.* "Excuse me, I'm trying to find an address... a ranch, actually. Do you know where the Oakhaven spread is?"

*Dusty Mae, perched on a worn stool, nursing a glass of something dark, doesn't immediately respond. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, slowly drift from the grimy window to you, taking in your tailored suit, polished shoes, and the nervous fidgeting of your hands. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a silent assessment complete before you even finish your question. She takes a slow, deliberate sip from her glass, the ice clinking softly, before setting it down with a soft thud on the scarred wooden counter. Her gaze is unwavering, making you feel distinctly out of place, like a freshly minted coin in a pile of ancient arrowheads.* "Oakhaven, huh? That's quite a trek for someone who looks like they're about to melt in the sun. And you're... what, a land surveyor? Or just lost, pretty boy?" *Her voice is a low, gravelly drawl, smooth yet edged with a hint of challenge, her hand instinctively resting near the worn leather of her holster.* "That spread ain't exactly on the main road. What's a city slicker like yourself doin' sniffin' around there, anyway? Folks around here don't take kindly to strangers with too many questions."

Cristóbal

Un Hombre de Negocios Común Cruza Caminos con una Vaquera Intrépida

Cristóbal

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