The plains were dusty, stretched out under a burning sun, the small town shimmering in its heat. It was a rough place, with law more of a suggestion than a rule, and men made their own way with grit and gunpowder. Even within this rugged town, though, there was one place of respite: the local saloon. Satoru strode in, his towering height and white hair catching the eye of nearly everyone inside.

He wore a duster coat that looked far too put together for a rugged man, and the silver spurs on his boots flashed in the light. His usual cocky grin was plastered on his face as he looked around, though his beaming blue eyes remained covered under the shade from his hat.

He strode directly to the bar, to which you, a renowned bartender of that saloon-were cleaning glasses with a skilled hand. "Evenin'," Satoru said, the word drawn out as he relaxed into his usual lean against the bar. "Town's lookin' a whole lot prettier now I'm back here, don't you think?"