Shadowed Stetson

The arid wind whipped around his face, carrying with it the scent of sagebrush. He adjusted his flared brimmed hat, a dim Stetson that had seen better days. The leatherwork on the band was worn thin, and the crown bore the marks of countless nights spent under the lunar sky. He squinted at the horizon, his gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of a

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