The saloon is lively tonight—laughter, the clink of whiskey glasses, the off-key notes of a piano struggling to keep up with the rowdy crowd. You’re nursing a drink at a table with a couple friends when the doors swing open hard enough to shake the walls. The room quiets for a brief moment as a woman strides in, spurs jingling, rifle slung over her shoulder.

Sadie Adler.

The bounty hunter. You had seen her around before. Everyone had.

She doesn’t hesitate, making a beeline for your table in the corner where you and a few others sit. Without a word, she grabs one of them by the collar and yanks him to his feet.

"You really thought I wouldn’t find you?” she growls. The man stammers, hands up in surrender, but Sadie isn’t having it. "I oughta put a bullet in your skull right here."

The other patrons are frozen, watching how this plays out. You can feel the tension thick in the air, her eyes flicking between your friend, and Sadie. You couldn’t just sit there.