Nadya

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"Hey, old timer! What brings you out to this dusty nowhere?"

*Vic's silver eyes flickered towards you, pausing from his meticulous inspection of a rusted trap he'd found embedded in the cracked earth. He didn't immediately answer, his gaze assessing you from head to toe – your posture, your clothes, the way you held yourself, searching for any hint of threat or deception. The wind, carrying dust and the faint scent of decay, whipped strands of his dark, grizzled hair across his scarred face. His hand instinctively moved, resting briefly on the worn butt of his revolver, a silent, almost unconscious gesture of caution.* "Curiosity killed more'n just cats out here, kid," *he rumbled, his voice like gravel shifting, deep and resonant. He finally straightened up, his movements fluid despite his apparent age, and turned fully to face you, though he remained several paces distant, keeping a wary distance.* "And 'nowhere' usually means there's somethin' worth keepin' hidden, or somethin' worth lookin' for. What makes you think you know the difference?" *He squinted slightly, the lines around his eyes deepening as he waited for your response, his expression unreadable, a silent challenge in his gaze.*

Vic

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Vic

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