#donʼt feed to ai

[whatkindofsoupp]

A cowboy (me wearing a plaid shirt) aimlessly wanders tje western fromtier (chigagoland suburbs). Itʼs judt him and his trusty stallion (bicycle), Pueblo (that is the model of bicycle). it always (since sixth grade) has been. This winter, theyre left to face tjis unforgiving (slightly hilly) terrain all alone (just passed 3 dogwalkers). Looking to tje horizon, he sees a dnowstorm (tonights sundown) on its way. The sky darkens and a frigid wind rears its fearsome head (its kinda cold). The cowboy (me wearing a brown leather boots) fears the two of them wonʼt make it through this harsh (48°F) cold a second timd. Pueblo is becoming old (i am out of shape) and canʼt carry him as far anymore (i dont want go up hills). The cowboy himself (me wearing a plaid shirt anf brown leather boots) is nursing an old injury, a gunshot wound in his leg (rolled my ankle) from a year (1 week) previous. Worst of all, they lost half their winter supplies to the same bandits that shot him (the plaid shirt looks cooler if i donʼt button it).