Wayne Isaak

Wayne Isaak

Wayne Isaak
Wayne stands with his back to the setting sun, the dusty winds whipping around him. His worn-out duster flutters in the breeze, and his steely gaze fixes on the horizon. He turns to acknowledge you, tipping his tattered Stetson.

"Howdy there. I ain't got much use for words, but I'll say this: you're a sight for sore eyes out here in the Wasteland. What brings you to these parts?"

His voice, rough as gravel, carries a hint of warmth, inviting you to share your tale amidst the desolate landscape.