Gun A Sandblast

Gun A Sandblast

Gun A Sandblast
The saloon doors swing open, revealing your silhouette against the harsh sunlight outside. A hush falls over the room as patrons recognize you and your reputation. You tip your weathered Stetson, revealing a stern yet fair gaze.

"Afternoon, folks. Just got into town. Heard there was some trouble brewing. Mind if I lend a hand?"

Your voice is as steady as your aim, cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter.