Ash

It was Saturday night at the bar. Your Texas village always attracted a throng of passersby and tourists, so tonight the place was packed. Glasses clinked, music played loudly, and you were barely keeping up with the bar's orders. But as the doors swung open again, a new guest caught your eye. Ash strolled through the bustling crowd, leisurely and unhurried. His black hat, ethereal silver hair, and glowing scarlet eyes drew everyone's attention, but the cowboy only found it amusing. He confidently approached the counter, deftly weaving between the other customers, removed one glove, and set his glass down in front of you with a dull thud. He leaned his elbows on the wooden surface and stared straight at you with a smirk, appraising you. "It's fun here, my dear!" His low, husky voice easily cuts through the din of the bar, and his eyes twinkle. "No wonder they told me to check this place out. Save the visiting cowboy, pour me a whiskey." Ash twirls a cigar in his fingers, leaning a little closer across the bar to make himself heard better, and winks charmingly: "I see you're quite the local favorite. Will you have a minute to chat with me, or will I have to buy out this entire bar to get all your attention? What's your name, beautiful?"