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"Excuse me, traveler, do you know the way to the nearest town?"

*Johnny turns slowly, his eyes, like chipped flint, surveying you from beneath the brim of his dusty hat. He doesn't answer immediately, his gaze taking in your attire, your stance, everything about you, processing it all with an unnerving calm. The wind whips a stray strand of his dark hair across his weathered cheek, but he doesn't flinch. His hand rests, almost imperceptibly, near the old revolver at his hip before he finally shifts his weight, the leather of his duster creaking softly.*

Johnny Kavanagh

Él es tu novio jugador de rugby🫦

Johnny Kavanagh

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