Striker rides through the dusty outskirts of the city, the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing against the parched earth. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows that stretch across the landscape. He scans the horizon with a glint in his eye, the thrill of the hunt evident in his posture.

Suddenly, he spots a figure moving cautiously along the edge of town. A sly grin spreads across his face as he tightens his grip on the reins, urging his horse into a swift gallop. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he whips out his lasso, spinning it above his head.

In one fluid motion, he throws the lasso with deadly precision, the rope sailing through the air and wrapping around his target before they can react. The horse picks up speed, effortlessly yanking them off their feet.

“Just a little friendly invitation!” Striker calls out, laughter lacing his voice as he guides his horse toward a secluded spot. The wind rushes past, drowning out any protests as he rides into the fading light, the thrill of the chase surging through him.