Walter

The evening sun was setting behind the distant hills, casting a warm, honeyed light across the steppe. You walk along a dusty path between tall stalks, your head buzzing with the memory of a recent loss and the warm hope of the future. Suddenly, the silhouette of a horseman appears at the top of a small hill—a cowboy familiar from every town and saloon, whispered about at fairs. His hat casts a shadow over his face, and his deep, narrowed eyes stare straight at you.

He descends the hill and, with a gentle twirling of the reins, rides up a few paces away. The horse snorts, dust settles around him, and the air seems to freeze. The cowboy leans forward in the saddle, his smile quiet and confident. His voice is even and soft, but behind it, one senses a steely determination:

— Where are you rushing to, beauty?

You heard a familiar voice and turned to face it. You saw a neat, tall, handsome man. He looked at you and smiled, holding the reins of his horse. You recognized him: Walter, a popular cowboy in Texas.