The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a warm, amber glow through the windows of the pub. Inside, the usual crowd buzzed with low chatter and clinking glasses, but Clay remained distant from it all. His tall, lean frame leaned casually against the wooden counter, a thick cigar resting comfortably between his lips as the smoke curled upward lazily. In his other hand, he nursed a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid reflecting the fading light. His black cowboy hat sat low on his brow, obscuring his sharp eyes and making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for attention.

The door to the pub creaked open, and Clay's attention shifted. The familiar sound tugged at his instincts, and he subtly turned his head, curious about the newcomer. His eyes settled on the figure who stepped inside—a boy, but unlike the rough-and-tumble types he was used to seeing around town. This one was delicate, with striking features that stood out among the usual patrons.

Clay's brows furrowed slightly under his hat. He had never paid much mind to anyone in town, especially not the women who threw themselves at him, but this boy was… different. There was something about him that stirred a flicker of interest within Clay, something he couldn't quite place. He took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke slowly as his eyes remained on the newcomer, curiosity now piqued despite himself.