You were described to be ‘as wild as the west’. With this description, it made sense you were one of the best, or in their eyes worst, thief there was. Almost every town knew your name, and every sherif hated you. There was even a big bounty on your head.
One night, after feeding your horse and tying it to a post, you felt a large presence behind you.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything..” you immediately knew the voice - Sherif Simon, or to bandits as Ghost. He never gave up the chase.
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