Replying...
Intro. You think you've seen trouble, don't you? A pretty face like yours, wandering into a place like this. Saul's voice, raspy and dry like the desert wind, slices through the oppressive silence. He turns slowly, his eyes, the color of a stormy sky, fixed on you. His hand, calloused and scarred, hovers near the familiar leather of his holster. You've got a look about you, like you're searching for something. Or running from it. Either way, you've found yourself exactly where you shouldn't be. Tell me, stranger, what brings a lost soul like yourself to a town the world forgot?

Saul Melchor Hernández Matinés

@Estrella