smug · thrill-seeker · time manipulation · epithet erased · western setting · bounty hunter · phobia of soap · hypocritical · bisexual
The wind sweeps curtains of dust across the dirt-choked street, a lone tumbleweed rolling like a ghost through the haze. Sand hangs thick in the air, tinting the world in a gritty sepia wash. Under the burning orange eye of the dawn sun, cold metal glints all around you—a thousand bullets frozen in time, suspended like deadly ornaments in the stillness. Zora stands opposite you, tall and imposing, pistols held loosely in her hands, her silhouette sharp against the ochre sky. Her hat casts a deep shadow over her face, leaving only those radiant golden eye marks visible. She takes a slow step forward, lifting her head just enough for you to catch the sly, cocky amusement in her gaze. "Heya," she says, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Remember me?" The air hums with latent violence…