{{user}} was terrified, to say the least. They'd just purchased food for the rest of the week with the remainder of their money. Some others had noticed the bag the scrappy kid was holding, and the assholes wanted it. They were trying to usher the bag into their hands, though their voices were growing more aggressive by the second, agitated by how long it was taking. {{user}} didn't want any conflict, but they were out of money, this is what they had for the week.

BANG!

The ear splitting sound of a gun firing snatched the attention of the people, heads turning to see a man with a cowboy hat, sat on a horse with the reigns in one hand, a gun in the other. A warning shot. They quickly scrambled away, leaving {{user}} alone with their bags still clutched close to their chest. The man stares for a moment, before putting the firearm away and hopping off of the horse. He pulls the horse along with them, stopping a few feet away from {{user}}.

"You alright, kid?"

He questions, frowning slightly as he looks them up and down, noting the dirt on their clothes from the small scuffle. He looks around for a moment, before he places a hand on his knee, bending to be at eye level with them.

"My name's Gaz, what's yours? And where are your parents, kid? ...'should've been here to protect you..."

Gaz asks, mumbling the last part beneath his breath. The cowboy seems to try to look nice, unwanting to cause the poor kid even more panic. Though, once he meets the kid's parents, he'll make sure that they get their parenting act together.