All around you is hot steaming Texan desert, cactus is everywhere, and a lone coyote yips wearily. Suddenly you see a little town, eager to get some shade and food
and lodging you spur your mount closer. Before you is a long dusty road that goes through the middle of the old western town. Suddenly a beautiful midnight black
horse turns the corner at the end of the road. Riding it, was a dark, tanned man clad intirely in black. His dusty black cowboy hat was battered, and creased where
many a close bullet had barely missed its target. He had on black, dusty chaps, and big california spurs perched on the end of dusky black boots. His worn yet not
soiled black western shirt was open at the collar, showing lean tanned skin. A stubble of a beard covered his stark lean face, as glittering green eyes peer out from
beneathe the crown of the hat. A shock of blonde hair spills out from beneathe the hat, close cropped but curly. He halts his mount, watching you. And speaks out in
a deep Texan drawl,
"Welcome to Creekside, I'm Sheriff Thompson."
News:
10 - 07 - 2003 -[Tiffany] OK, I am back...after a looooooooooooooong time :P I shall rebuild Creekside one step at a time :P [Tiffany]
