Stew

SWORDTEMBER DAY 17: WESTERN

Side Iron, of cold steel and smoking barrel ⭐️🌵 Spurs jangled, and chainmail jostled. The two stopped their walking, twenty paces apart. Light caught on the gleaming platemail of the stranger, and the townsfolk shielded their eyes as the sun danced on the bright silver armour, leather tassels blowing in the wind. Across from him, the sheriff. Despite the tight slit in his helm of blacked steel and the low brim of his hat, you could still feel that man’s gaze a million miles away. The shadows clung by his feet as the sun rose high in the sky, dust slow moving in the air, kicked up from their boots. The gentle tick of the town clock rattled a lonely melody, and the townsfolk held their breath. Less than a minute now. At the sheriff's side, that wicked thing that so many of them had come to fear. Gleaming blade of dark gunmetal, its barrel stained from smoke. The stranger caught the way these kind people glanced at that thing, at the man who held it, this man who was meant to keep them safe. If there was one thing the stranger didn’t tolerate, it was bullies. Both their hands were ready now, fingers itching to end the other's life. The clock chimed - draw.

Why howdy hope y’all have just a perfect day 💕

Yesterday’s sword!

*cools ur dashboard down*

attack for @stewvevo !

attack for @stewvevo !

first artfight attack yaaahooo!