It’s the Wild West.

"The days are as long as they are hot. The air is dry but spirits are high for the booze is plenty and there's harlots a-many. People out here make there own happiness amid the squalor and dust. Oh the dust! It coats everything and everyone, kicked up by horses and gusts of wind off the open plains. It's a breeding ground for debauchery and mayhem. It's the Wild West." The exotic woman dressed like a bar-wench practically sang it like a chant.

"You warn'n me or try'n'ta sell me on it dar'lyn?" The gruff older man asked in a slow-draw southern twang and weary smirk.

"Depends on what you're here for, partner." She quipped back with lullyby eyes and a pop of ruby-red lips.

"I'm hunt'n." He said with a charming smile and casual lean back against the post of the Saloon's front porch. His right hand smoothly brushing his coat aside so he could rest his palm on the reversed hilt of the long colt holstered on a belt slung around the narrow of his hips.

"Well then I'm selling you on it sugar." The woman coed with a winked smirk of her own. "My name's Bajiel Razna, Baji if you please." She held out her seemingly delicate hand in introduction whilst she continued, opportunistically suggesting his hand away from the pistol. "I'm what people around here call, The Acquirer. -Who- or what ever you're looking for, I can get it." Still her husky vocals chimed like she was a siren singing him her song.

He shook her hand firm and held it firm until he felt her tug it back, just in time to emphasize -who- like she knew he wasn't hunting game. He did her the favor of tucking his thumb in the brim of his pants where his shirt was loosely tucked in. "What if that who is the local Sheriff?" He asked plainly but casually enough he could have been kidding.

"It's the Wild West." Baji slyly punctuated with an arch of her brows, as if that was all the explanation he needed.

|| another-proser ||