Caboose was an incredibly silly word, Rojin thought, as he walked towards the little balcony that was overlooking the horizon as the train kept moving through the desert. Saren wandered off to check the coach, which gave the older Lareth some time to just... think alone. Linger.
He adjusted the bandana around his neck as he entered, only to spot another person present here. Was that..?
"I hope I'm not intruding?" he uttered, lingering by the entrance. He was dressed less like a cowboy, more like a worker (or someone who wanted people to think that he was one, perhaps..?). There were the boots, the dark pants with a heavy leather belt, and a half-buttoned dirty white shirt, tucked into the pants. The clips of his suspenders looked like small dog-heads, biting into the washed material. Stuffed into one of his pockets, was a small rag he used in the bar.
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