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Leon

Sunset Stride

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The wind whipped, as the gaunt figure appeared on the horizon before me.  The sillouette of a worn serape whipped vigorously against wind, as the sun set behind the being before me. The only sounds in the air was those of metal spurs and the gusts blowing the sand across the landscape.  The sheen of metal glistened from the person's hip, as they drew closer.

 

As the man grew closer, I could see his ragged, long sandy hair, and short beard.  His eyes had a look of fierce desperation, and he carried only a single bag over his shoulder.  The whip on his side, opposite of his revolver looked well worn, and stained with blood.  His hat was black as pitch, bearing silver coins around the base, and his boots' had the same coloring.

 

He made no sound as we crossed paths, and nor did I, for it was apparent by his expression he had no mind to talk, and witnessed many things he'd rather keep to himself. His gaze never wandered from the path laid before him, as he strode down the dirt path. I looked back, to see where he was headed, only to notice that as the sun disappeared, so did he.

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A very beautiful passage <3 Brought on images of cowboys and grand adventures of the long past... For a second there I might have envisioned Indiana Jones, too. 

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