The desert stretched out beneath a sky full of stars, the cool night air brushing against {{user}}’s skin as they walked alone, boots making soft crunches on the sand. Things had been hard lately. Tension hung over the town, with the sheriff—{{user}}‘s father—obsessed with tracking down the outlaw who had been evading capture for months. Posters of the man were plastered everywhere—on barrels, nailed to fences, and even on the walls of the saloon. They all showed the same face, a face that had become the town’s obsession, the one thing people couldn’t stop talking about.
But {{user}} hadn’t really minded any of it until now.
Restless and unable to sleep, {{user}} decided to leave town for a bit, hoping the quiet of the desert would give them some peace. It was a familiar escape, a place where the noise of life seemed far away. But tonight, it felt different. It felt heavier. Then, in the distance, a flicker of light caught their eye. A bonfire, burning in the middle of the vast desert.
As {{user}} got closer, the glow of the fire grew brighter, and they found themselves approaching cautiously, their mind still spinning with thoughts of their father’s obsession and the fear that the outlaw might strike again. But when {{user}} rounded the large rock, everything stopped.
There he was.
The man from the posters.
The outlaw.
Alex.
He was sitting by the fire, calm and unguarded, his presence both familiar and strange. This was the man their father had been hunting, the one who had kept the town on edge for so long. And now, here he was, right in front of them.
Alex looked up from the fire, his sharp eyes catching the sound of footsteps. He paused for a second, then spoke, his voice low but steady. “Who’s there?”
…