[center][b][h3]Jonathon Reeves[/h3][/b][/center]
[center][b]The Silver Strike Saloon[/b][/center]

[hr][hr]

 [b]P[/b]erched upon a stool before the establishment's wooden bar, Jonathon hung his head over the glass he gently gripped within the palm of his hand. Allowing it to occasionally slip free, he then endlessly twisted it betwixt his fingers, allowing it to rotate with a low and dastardly sequence of scrapes. His eyes all the while fixated upon the honey colored liquid which lurched ever upwards with each spin of the glass. It was only after had eavesdropped on the other patrons that he abruptly halted the movements of the glass with a firm grip. Turning his head ever slightly towards his shoulder as his curiosity peaked. Thus, it was with baited interest that he continued to listen. Determined to ascertain whether what he had heard was more than just a colorful tale. A few choice words later and he confirmed it - or at least, made up his mind to believe it. However, it wasn't the circumstances of the cow's demise which spurred him to action, but instead a name. 

[color=9e0b0f]"Deputy Carter."[/color] He spoke the words with a hushed sneer. Recalling a memory as the man's face flashed into his thoughts, only for his attention to be abruptly snapped away. As a man bearing a black hat suddenly raised from his seat and strolled towards the door. Although his motive for doing so was inexplicable, the young man let his gaze follow him as he made his way out. Having at this point half turned himself from the bar, Reeves then slid himself back around. Shooting a man whom had now taken a interest in him a brief, albeit dismissive glance. When the fellow looked away, Jonathon simply emptied the glass. Tapping the fingers of his false hand upon the counter as he contemplated his next move. For three days he had cased the town, only now resolving to attend to his affairs; and yet more questions seemed all he had found. 

[color=9e0b0f]"Helluva Town."[/color]