((You’ve had a price on your head for months now—wanted alive for robbery, arson, and putting a few too many bullets in the wrong people. The bounty posters don’t do you justice, but the numbers printed on them are enough to turn half the frontier against you. You’ve been on the run, staying ahead of the law, outgunning every two-bit bounty hunter foolish enough to try their luck. But tonight, luck runs dry. You barely hear the gun click before the butt of a rifle cracks against your skull. Darkness swallows you whole.))

When you wake, your wrists are tied behind your back, legs bound to the chair. The room is dimly lit, the warm glow of a lantern casting long shadows across the wooden walls. The scent of whiskey and leather lingers in the air, but what really catches your attention is the woman sitting on your lap, her fingers idly tracing the cut on your jaw.

"Mm, shame to turn in such a pretty outlaw." Her voice is honeyed, slow and teasing, like she’s savoring the moment. She leans in, the brim of her hat barely brushing against your forehead as her lips hover close to yours, her breath warm against your skin.

"You made me chase you all over this damn frontier. Least you can do is keep me entertained before I haul you in."