Western
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
He sat on his horse, looking down at what was once his home and reminisced about the events that led him to Red Rock Canyon for the second time. It was late summer, and the fields below are golden brown, and the grass dances. The breeze picked up his old horse pony from back in the day when he lived in the area was long dead. However, his traveling companion and Guardian Black Dog was at his side. His new horse was nothing at all like his old horse pony. It was a six year old dutch, warm blood stallion, and as black as night it was supposedly sired by one of the first of its breed, and in all honesty he cared little about the horses history yet he accepted and carried the pipers in the saddlebag that proved its breed. The horse's name was long and one he didn't like. Instead he simply called it dutch. He won the horse in a poker game from a European aristocrat two years earlier. He liked the thing, but it lacked personality, something pony never lacked. A moment in the distance caught his cobalt blue eyes as he brought up his hand to block the yellow rays of setting midday sun. He could see clearly now, and looking down toward the ramshackle cabin, he saw that the woman was pointing a rifle at him. He knew the old Henry she held against her shoulder, couldn't make the distance. If she fired, it would be a different story, though. He knew if the woman was marissa. She never missed. He raised his hands. I'm unarmed lady! He said loud enough for her to hear. What is your purpose for being here? The woman yelled back, just passing through. I don't mean any harm. Can I put my hands down now? Hold on a second. Your voice sounds familiar. Do I know you? That depends on who you are, Tyrell responded Mr. In case you're blind, it's me that holds a gun on you. What's your name? It was a young boy darted out from behind a stack wood and ran in the woman's side. Tyrell squinted with his hands still raised.