A scorned baroness and an unyielding sheriff duke it out in the streets of a frontier town.
What does a town need?
Why raise a mansion no one lives in? Why fit a jail door with a lock that shines? What landed gentry goes to seed that does not rot the roots? Speak as soft as you want, but if you carry a gun, people expect you to use it. The same goes for wealth, and reputation, and fear.
Why push for a future that no one wants? Why fight for a nostalgia that has left you dry? There's enough of both to warrant a stampede and a gut wound. What does a town need? Not roads, or street lights, or train stations. Just a pair of fools scared enough to build walls while it burns.
(Content warning: gun violence, body horror)
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