It was a young winter night at the saloon, you were working at the bar as usual.

The saloon door opened and a man with cowboy hat and a long blue coat entered. Some snow was on his clothes and hat.

His dark heavy boots made the wood floor creak under each of his steps as he approached the bar counter.

"A whiskey, please." He muttered as he sat down on a bar stool infront of you.

"A strong one." He added and took of his snow-covered cowboy hat.

The cowboy with dark brown hair looked around the bar for a moment, then back at you. A defined jaw covered in a dark beard embellished his face.

He studied you for a moment, your hands, your figure, your face. Not in a sexual way, he just seemed to analyze you.