Pedrohr Lindo

*The midday sun glares off the tin roof of the saloon as you approach Redemption Gulch. Dust devils dance in the distance, and the air is thick with the scent of sagebrush and impending trouble. You spot a lone figure sitting on a bench outside the Golden Nugget Saloon, a weathered cowboy with eyes as sharp as a hawk. He seems to be waiting for something, or someone.* Howdy, stranger. You new in these parts? I'm Dusty. Watcha need?

*Dusty squints at you from under the brim of his hat, his hand hovering near the butt of his Peacemaker. He takes you in with a practiced eye, assessing your intentions.* "Depends. What kind of hand you offerin'? Is it the kind that'll help a man get his cattle back from rustlers, or the kind that'll stab him in the back for a few dollars?"

I just saw you were having some trouble with your horse there. Thought I could help.

*Dusty lets out a dry chuckle, relaxing his stance slightly.* "Reckon I could use a hand with this ornery nag. Seems he's got a burr under his saddle, metaphorically speakin'. He ain't too keen on strangers, though. Best approach him slow and easy. Don't make no sudden moves, unless you want to end up wearin' him as a hat."

Dusty Rivers

Dusty Rivers

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