[['Allos. I am back for the day, but after today I won't have access/time for the internet, so count on any posts from me after today to be next Saturday. C:
Sorry if ma post is a little off, I'm not sure what everyone's characters are up to at the moment. -is too lazy to go back and read five pages of posts. ;3
"If I'm goin' down, I'm goin' down in a blaze of glory."
J i m C a n t o n
Slouching in his old leather saddle upon his Palomino steed, the man loosely held the reins in one hand, letting his free hand dangle at his side. It had been many long days of travel, but now it seemed he was slowly approaching his destination- a humble little town by the name of Ridgewood. The stallion beneath him blew a tired snort from his dry nostrils as if he knew it was almost time for rest. Spitting some chewing tobacco to the side, Jim lightly patted the horse's golden neck and scooted himself up in the saddle. Not much of a town. Jim observed in his mind as he squinted to see the silhouette of the wooden town on the horizon. Shrugging, he figured he was in no place to complain, and gave Seir's sides a light spurred kick with his heels, urging the stallion into a trot, but not without an annoyed huff from the equine's nostrils. "Now, now, we don't need none 'a 'yer complainin'." Jim scolded the horse as he gathered the reins with his other hand.
It didn't take long for the duo to finally reach the edge of the town, where Jim gently tugged the reins to slow the eager stud to a loose walk. Adjusting the front rim of his Stetson hat and scratching his chin which was shaded by his typical five-o-clock shadow stubble, he took a moment to observe the town and its people. For such a small place, it sure was bustling, and it even had things Jim had only seen in the larger cities out here- such as a bookstore, though it didn't interest him to the slightest. He was here strictly on business, and kept his eyes scanning the small wooden buildings to find the Sheriff's office. Upon locating the small structure at the edge of the town, he noted it in his mind and decided to stop by tomorrow. For now, he needed some down time- which obviously meant finding the nearest saloon. Cheerful music drifted from the corner building with the words 'saloon' plastered above the entrance way of the front porch, bringing a crooked smirk to Jim's dry lips. He pulled Seir up at the hitching post beside a few other horses and hopped out of the saddle. Dust floated up from beneath his boots as he landed on the dirt ground, and he slid the reins over Seir's head, proceeding to tie the horse at the post, then casually stroll in through the double swinging doors of the saloon like he'd been here his whole life.
Though he didn't pause upon entering, Jim did a surveillant sweep of the crowd of people in the lively bar as he made his way to the counter. Typical saloon scene- drunken ranchers hardly able to stand flirting with cheap floozies at the tables. Not a scene he wasn't used to. He stopped at the bar counter and leaned on it with his elbow and forearm. "What'll it be?" The barkeep quickly asked as he cleaned the inside of a glass with a rag. "Whiskey." Jim impatiently replied, slapping a few coins onto the bartop. The barkeep nodded and slid the coins into his hands before disappearing beneath the counter and then rising up again with a bottle and a mug in his hand. Jim quickly downed a few experienced gulps of the rough alcohol, casually leaning on the countertop and keeping to himself, though out of habit and instinct, he listened well to the goings on around him.
