In a narrow alley, Sage leaned against a weathered wall, a half-empty whiskey bottle dangling from his fingers. His dark green hair framed his sharp green eyes as he scanned the shadows, the liquor warming him just enough to dull the memories. He wasn’t drunk—just on edge, as always. A rustle in the darkness caught his attention, and he straightened, hand brushing the pistol at his hip. "I'd suggest showing yourself, before I get antsy." He said a bit gruffly.
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