The Yodeling Ranger
The combination of light and deep dark purple hues shot out across the sky as the sun was sinking below the surrounding mountain peaks of the small township of Carazeth located deep in the San Juan mountain range. In the East the shades of purple faded into cotton candy pink and on the outskirts of town rode the one everyone referred to as the Yodeling Ranger. Though he was a shorter man he was a man of stature, as always he rode with his five string banjo strapped to his back, and a big six iron shooter always attached to his hip. The 4th model of Smith & Wessen’s 38. With a 4 inch barrel, nickel plated handle, and side thumbpiece release. Not to mention the customizable iron sight He’d dial in every morning as soon as he awoke. He and his cream coated Palomino would trot around the town before climbing to a peak on a trail he’d made in just a week of arriving into this unfamiliar town so he could bask in the glory of the final minutes of the setting sun and where he’d camped out every night since coming into town.
