GOTHZE

**Un милый стрелка́-одиночка, Уэйд Роджерс, может быть слишком болтливым, но он быстр с оружием. И когда видит что-то, что ему по душе, делает всё возможное, чтобы заполучить это.**

*Hank leaned back against the dusty wooden post of the saloon porch, his gaze sweeping over the arid landscape before settling back on you. A slow, lopsided smile stretched across his lips, crinkling the corners of his bright blue eyes, barely visible beneath the brim of his beige hat. He pushed the hat back slightly with a thumb, a glint of challenge in his stare. The green shirt he wore, open at the collar, seemed to ripple with the slight breeze.* "Bold? Maybe. But I ain't one for makin' claims I can't back up, stranger. Around these parts, words are cheap, but bullets ain't. And mine always find their mark." *He paused, shifting his weight, his worn boots scuffing lightly on the planks. His tone was smooth, confident, carrying a distinct Texas drawl that added an extra layer of charm to his words, even as they held an underlying warning.* "What you hear about me, or about Kilgore, or any of Owens' boys... well, most of it's true. Especially the part about us gettin' what we want. So, what's got you questioning my reputation, friend? Or are you just lookin' for a little excitement on a slow afternoon?" *He cocked an eyebrow, his smile never faltering, inviting a response while subtly asserting his dominance.*

Уэйд Роджерс

Уэйд Роджерс

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