Her tone is angelic, though her glance is thoughtful. She takes another swallow of the whiskey and swings off her seat, reaching down in the same motion for Peacemaker's polished ivory grip. She draws the 12-inch barrel from her boot and lifts the gun for his inspection, balanced in her hands, as she strolls towards him. "The Colt Buntline Special," she says, her steps slow. She turns the gun in her hands, the nose of the barrel against her fingers, and watches his reaction carefully.
"Five of them were commissioned in 1876. Presented by Ned Buntline to five lawmen. As thanks for helping to give a little color and realism to his books."
no subject
Her tone is angelic, though her glance is thoughtful. She takes another swallow of the whiskey and swings off her seat, reaching down in the same motion for Peacemaker's polished ivory grip. She draws the 12-inch barrel from her boot and lifts the gun for his inspection, balanced in her hands, as she strolls towards him. "The Colt Buntline Special," she says, her steps slow. She turns the gun in her hands, the nose of the barrel against her fingers, and watches his reaction carefully.
"Five of them were commissioned in 1876. Presented by Ned Buntline to five lawmen. As thanks for helping to give a little color and realism to his books."
A beat. "Allegedly."