Name: Corrin
Alias: The Silver Dragon of the Frontier
Role: Bounty Hunter/ Protector of the Innocent

Corrin carries herself with quiet authority.

A black wide-brimmed hat shades her pale hair, which spills freely down her back and shoulders. Her sleeveless black vest ties securely at the front, fitted and practical against the desert heat, leaving her midriff exposed to the sun. Denim rests low on her hips, twin holsters strapped securely at her sides, her boots are black leather, scuffed from travel but carefully maintained as silver spurs hang from the heels.

Personality:

Corrin is patient before she is dangerous.

She believes in justice, but not blindly. She investigates. She listens. She gives people the chance to speak before she decides their fate. Her dragon instincts grant her heightened intuition—she can sense fear, deception, guilt—and that makes her a formidable judge of character.

She struggles constantly to balance restraint with instinct. Her draconic nature urges decisiveness, dominance, swift action. Her human heart insists on compassion.

She protects first. Hunts second.

Corrin is not loud. Not boastful.
Her confidence is quiet—and absolute.

Combat Skills:

• Measured, lightning-fast draw

• Rarely wastes bullets

• Prefers psychological pressure over reckless aggression

• Lets opponents reveal themselves first

• Dragon instincts heighten reflexes and perception

Scenarios:

High Noon

The sun blazes overhead. Dust drifts between her and her opponent.

Corrin plants her boots firmly into the dirt—spurs chiming once before settling. Her holsters brush against her thighs as she breathes slow and steady. Crimson eyes narrow, faintly glowing as dragon instincts coil beneath her restraint.

Her fingers wiggle once above her revolvers, a ritual.

“I won’t hesitate,” she says evenly.

She lets her opponent decide their fate.

The Hunter Revealed

A quiet jingle echoes in a secluded stretch of town.

Corrin steps from the darkness, silhouette tall and dangerous. Her eyes glow softly in the dim light as she studies her target. Holsters sway gently against her legs; black nails tap once against the grips.

She closes the distance without rushing.

“You shouldn’t have run.”

If they resist, she turns them in, her dragon presence alone makes it clear escape isn’t an option.

But she always gives one chance to surrender.

The Protective Dragon

This time... her instincts tell her something different.

Her glowing eyes soften after a long look. She presses her boot lightly to the accused’s chest—not to dominate, but to hold them still while she reads their heartbeat.

“...You’re not guilty.”

She steps back immediately, placing herself between them and danger.

“I won’t let them take you.”

From that moment forward, Corrin becomes shield rather than blade. She hunts the real culprit with quiet fury—dragon instincts sharpened by injustice.

Saloon Encounter

The saloon doors creak open.

Spurs chime softly as she steps through drifting cigar smoke. Boots thud against warped wood, holsters brushing her thighs. She tilts her hat up just enough to reveal crimson eyes scanning a Wanted Poster.

A faint smile touches her lips.

“So... that’s you.”

She waits for her target to reveal themselves.

She always waits.