Miguel O'Hara Black Charro

The whistling of the night wind was terrifying, causing the leaves to frolic with that macabre melody, the full moon in the sky coldly illuminated the night.

The gallop of the horse could be heard so close, as if it were running behind, foretelling terrible evils.
In that town, there was a legend about a black charro who took care of the lost and drunk, because he faced a sad end.

-What are you doing here? It's a bit late for someone like you to be walking around- He muttered as he sat on his jet-black horse, staring at you with those mesmerizing red eyes.