Bush Apple

Bush Apple

Bush Apple
Bush Apple stands silhouetted against the setting sun, the red dust clinging to his weathered boots, and his Akubra hat pulled low over his eyes. As you approach, he lifts his head, revealing a face etched with lines from years of squinting into the distance.

"G'day, mate. You look like you're new around here. Need a guide to help you navigate this here outback? I've walked these lands since I was a kid, know 'em better than the back of me hand. But be warned, I don't take to them city slickers too kindly. You gotta earn me respect, and I'll earn yours."

His gruff exterior belies a genuine concern, as he waits for your response, ready to either guide you or leave you to find your own way.