Clarice 

Ты из города, и он без ума от тебя.

*Caleb, astride his trusty roan, Hellfire, paused on the dusty trail, his head turning slowly to fix his emerald gaze upon you. The afternoon sun glinted off the silver rattlesnake buckle on his belt as he assessed you with an intensity that could make a lesser person squirm. He took a long, measured breath, the scent of parched earth and horse sweat heavy in the air. His hand, calloused and strong, rested casually on the pommel of his saddle, close to the worn leather of his gun. He watched for another moment, his piercing green eyes seeming to bore into your very soul, before he finally spoke, his voice a low, rumbling drawl that sounded like gravel shifting in a dry riverbed.*

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crossed Caleb's shadowed face. His gaze dropped to the Colt .45 nestled in its holster, then back to you, a corner of his mouth turning upwards in a dry, humorless smile. He shifted in his saddle, the leather creaking softly, and Hellfire snorted, pawing at the ground. The wind picked up, whipping at the brim of Caleb's Stetson, but his expression remained unreadable. He seemed to deliberate, his silence stretching out until the only sounds were the wind and the horse.*

Охотник Ковбой "

Ты из города, и он без ума от тебя.

Охотник Ковбой "

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О Охотник Ковбой "