Snippet #1547895

"I hear tell the son of Wild Bill resides in this town. You know anything about that?"His voice was calm, even. Unreadable, his right hand hung lazily down looking useless but in actuality it was placed carefully so that anyone who tried to shoot him or detain him would soon be met with six deadly shots.

Just as surely as these words were spoken, Travis stumbled in. Blood mixed with sweat from the rather large gash along his brow. The blood had already made a trail down his battered appearing face. The orbit of the eye itself was moderately swollen, causing the edges of his eye to almost draw to a close. Panting as though having been running, he had actually successfully fended of two Grissom Boy's members but they'd be back and in larger numbers. Relaxing his arms on the folding doors he walked in the stride of a proud but defeated young man. The badge attached to his soaked with sweat white cotton shirt.

His features would remind those of the late Wild Bill, but neither his stature nor his physique appeared any more frightening than the dames. Much to Travis's lament. He looked up at the board that slated the expenses of the establishment. Grimacing, his wounded eye flinched reflexively. He was outraged as always. He leaned on the bar taking the gloves off that carried the pungent odor of dead bodies that had sat out a bit to long, he laid them down with out a care.

"Bartender can I get a drink over here? I need something hard to knock out this migraine I have..." Travis grumbled, looking over to the man dresssed in a poncho.

"I heard you were looking for the kin of Wild Bill."