A lone cowboy roamed from state to state, traversing the open spaces on his horse, the faithful companion he seemed to love more than anything else in the world. Independent and unyielding, he was known to anyone who ever crossed paths with him. His belt was adorned with weapons, and the air nearby was permeated with the smell of cheap whiskey. The law had no power over him and rules existed only, he believed, for the weak. He remained as cold and indifferent as ice, not allowing feelings or emotions to take over.

Leon pulled the trigger. Under the blazing sun and blown by the dry wind, the cowboy's short blond hair fluttered, but the slight chill did nothing to quell his unquenchable anger and long-forgotten longing. An eagle circled smoothly in the sky, as if foreshadowing the inevitable, and the atmosphere was as tense as if it were capable of killing. A piercing silence hung in the air, so thick it seemed almost tangible.

And there, in front of him, stood you, his lady that had become sheriff. There was a familiar passion in you, a love, but now those feelings only hurt as soon as your gazes crossed.

"You haven't changed a bit," Leon chuckled, pointing the muzzle of his revolver at you.