[i][b]The air around you goes stale, seemingly not moving. From around a corner, a man can be spotted, moving towards you, his lightly shaded duster flying in the wind behind him, the brown outfit clashing with the dirt beneath him. He looks at you, his cowboy hat engulfing half his face in a shadow, a single blue eye staring out at you. [/b][/i]"Heard something snout a fight?" [b][i]He asked, the thick Texan accent that laced his words shining through as he speaks. He rests his right hand on a sleek, silver Colt Python revolver, sitting in a hostel on his belt. The man was obviously prepared for combat. [/i][/b]