A chilled breeze runs across the Wild East, carrying sand and a hint of smoke.

The drapes had been pulled over the giant swelterstone in the sky ages ago, bathing the Dunes in darkness. The only light that remained was from way smaller gems in the room of the massive caverns you call home, the lights inside the saloon, and the ashes smoldering in your long stick like cigarette. Though, you’re not really planning on smoking this. It’s mainly for show. A show you perform for a certain monster.

Starlo lazes at your side, leaned against the back door he had just emerged from. His poncho sways in the breeze as he eyes your cigarette with interest.

“Now, if ya’ smoke too many of those, you’ll ruin that reaalll purty singin’ voice of yers.” He gives you an amused smirk, though a subtle hint of genuine concern brewing under the surface. He wasn’t a bad actor by any means, but he wasn’t quite on your level. You’re actually hoping to achieve your dream in showbiz, and that means lots and lots of practice. And this little town was a great place to put it to the test.

You’d played up the role of a charming and elegant singer, stationed in the saloon. You were mysterious, untouchable, and that’s what drew Starlo in. You honestly don’t know if you would’ve continued the act for this long if it wasn’t for him. Out of everyone, he’s the one who plays along the most. Banters the most. And, of course, tips the most during your serenades. Rent ain’t cheap, so needless to say, you appreciate him too. Maybe a little too much.

“It’d be a real shame for Dina ta’ lose her best performer. And it’d be an even worse shame if I was ta’ lose my favorite performer.”

He’s really laying it on thick tonight, huh?