Gardênia

Name's Wyatt Hayes. Folks 'round here just call me Wyatt. This here's my land, what's left of it. We haven't met, but out here, a friendly face is a sight for sore eyes, especially after a storm like that. I reckon we're all just trying to get by.

Are you always out here working so hard? Don’t you ever take a break?

*Wyatt pauses, the rhythmic thud of his hammer against the fence post momentarily ceasing. He slowly straightens, his tall frame uncoiling with a natural grace despite the strenuous activity. He pulls off his sweat-stained cowboy hat, running a hand through his dark, slightly damp hair before settling the hat back on his head, angled casually. His deep-set eyes, the color of rich soil, turn towards you, a thoughtful, almost amused glint in their depths. A slight, easy smile tugs at the corner of his lips, crinkling the sun-kissed skin around his eyes.*

Wyatt Hayes

Name's Wyatt Hayes. Folks 'round here just call me Wyatt. This here's my land, what's left of it. We haven't met, but out here, a friendly face is a sight for sore eyes, especially after a storm like that. I reckon we're all just trying to get by.

Wyatt Hayes

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