Un voyage typique en ville. Un arrêt typique dans le magasin général, et un voyage typique à la maison. Il n'y aurait pas de drame, pas de violence, et elle pourrait être à la maison avant le coucher du soleil. C'est ce que Kizzy Cottman avait assuré qu'elle aurait lieu, et elle espérait sincèrement qu'il y aurait lieu. Mais rien n'a été typique depuis que Landon a été abattu, et à l'occasion, elle se demande si quelque chose ne le serait jamais. Cet après-midi-là, il semblait que ce n'était pas une exception.
"Mlle Cottman!" l'atelier avait accueilli avec un clin d'œil et un sourire. Il aurait pu aussi agiter, si ses mains n'avaient pas été occupées autrement. En bref, les mouvements pratiqués, l'homme a mélangé le papier d'une pile à l'autre, notant mentalement les totaux même lorsqu'il continuait à parler. -- C'est un plaisir de vous voir, madame.
Son enthousiasme, bien qu'attachant, n'a pas été rendu. -- L'après-midi, répondit simplement Kizzy, les doigts embrassant poliment le bord de son chapeau avant qu'elle ne l'enlève. Même dans un simple magasin, elle avait été élevée mieux que de parader la tête couverte.
-- Qu'est-ce qui vous amène aujourd'hui? Il a continué joyeusement.
"Juste besoin de sucre."
"Tu fais de la cuisson?"
Kizzy s'arrêta, sa main planant sur un petit sac pendant qu'elle murmurait sur ses mots. Quoi, priez dire, serait une autre utilisation pour le sucre? Mais la femme a mordu la réplique. C'était un homme bon, et elle aurait tort de lui enlever sa colère. Ce n'est pas le bon moment.
Il n'y avait pas de temps pour son commentaire, même si elle avait choisi de le dire. Un homme qui s'était déjà caché dans le dos a soudainement couru par, un sac en tissu chargé de marchandises sur son épaule. Ses motions étaient inhabituelles, elle a noté avec un peu d'urgence, car elle a presque renversé comme il a poussé devant elle. Quelle excuse avait-il pour un tel comportement? Sa première pensée a été un vol, et les cris subséquents de l'entretien d'atelier ont confirmé ses soupçons.
Sa propre liste d'achats a été oubliée alors qu'elle se lançait après l'homme. Ses bottes enchaînées sur le sol en bois, puis le porche qui grinçait, et enfin la rue dures et poussiéreuse. Mais ce n'est qu'après l'éclatement de la blonde dans le centre de la ville qu'elle a réalisé la gravité de la situation. Les hommes et les femmes ont couru partout, leurs chemins se croisent et semblent aléatoires, un signe sûr de panique. Des coups de feu ont été tirés à partir de nombreux bâtiments, accompagnés du tonnerre familier des armes à feu. Immédiatement, sa main s'est jetée à son propre pistolet.
Tellement pour une journée typique. Mais à Soursprings, à quoi s'attendait-elle?
Kizzie Cottman
Age - 35
Gender - Female
Occupation - Ranch Owner
Appearance - Kizzie's once round, soft features have grown hard. Lines of worry and exhaustion line her leathery face, and crows-feet spread from her blue eyes from squinting into the sun.
Height - Five Foot, Four Inches
Weight -  130 Pounds
Apparel - Always opting for comfort and durability over what is deemed appropriate, Kizzie's attire consists of slacks, boots, a collared shirt, and a vest. Much of what she wears once belonged to her husband. When appearances are a more pressing issue, she will wear the more acceptable riding skirt, or one of her few cotton dresses.
Weaponry - Kizzie carries her late husband's Kerr's Patent Revolver, a five-shot single-action weapon that he was issued during his time in the war. Back on the ranch, she also has a hunting rifle and a series of knives.
Equipment - Kizzie's mount is a buckskin mare named Windsor, who she nicknamed "Winny."
Skills - 
 Kizzie is an excellent shot. She and her husband often resorted to target practice when they needed a get-away from the demands of working on the ranch. After his death, she practiced religiously, growing especially skilled with his revolver.
 After growing up around ranches, and eventually owning her own, Kizzie is an excellent horsewoman. Her skills are not limited to the saddle - she is perfectly capable when it comes to grooming, training, and general care. She also knows her way around cattle.
 In the beginning, the ranch she shared with her husband was a pet project. After his death, she was forced to learn the ropes very quickly. As such, Kizzie has grown to be a skilled businesswoman. She knows what she needs, and how to get it.

Flaws - 
 The passing of her husband has left Kizzie a shell of the woman she once was. She has grown inverted, and moody, leaving a very bad taste in the mouths of those who knew her her whole life.
 Forced with so many unexpected challenges, Kizzie has decided that she will never depend on anyone again. She is independent, sometimes painfully so, and refuses any sort of help.
 Due to the nature of her husband's murder, Kizzie finds herself acting rashly when it comes to bounty hunters, sheriffs, or matters of death.
Personality - Once, the woman was a bundle of positive light and energy. She was kind to animals and humans alike, and she possessed a sense of humor that made everyone gravitate toward her. Because she grew up in town, the regulars were fortunate enough to watch her blossom into a lovable young lady. Even when her husband was away at war, she remained upbeat.
With his death, everything changed. Kizzie grew angry, lashing out at those around her. Most citizens of Soursprings felt for her, giving her space and understanding. But the years passed, and they realized that she would never return to the woman she once was. She hardly smiles, and prefers to keep to herself when possible. Her humor, on the rare occasion that it surfaces, is dry. Kizzie is intelligent, and will speak her mind when promoted. Her fuse is short and her temper is deadly, especially in matters concerning law, or her husband.
Backstory - Little Kizzie Braxton was a favorite among the people of Soursprings. With her mop of curly golden hair, and big, shimmering blue eyes, most doted upon her from an early age. After time, her good naturedness made her many friends. Eventually, it also found her a soulmate. She and Landon Cottman grew up together, and as they often did, their young friendship blossomed into something more. The pair was married at the ripe age of 17. Shortly after, Landon ventured off to join the Confederate cavalry. Though she worried about him terribly, the young lovers were reunited only a few years later. To celebrate their good fortune, Landon purchased a piece of land only a short ride from town. Together, they built a house, a barn, and a life.
The pair faced many hardships over the next decade. Kizzie's father, a shop owner in Soursprings, fell ill. Just as her mother had twenty years before, he slipped away in his sleep. Landon's mother and father, determining that business was better elsewhere, had moved across the state. Though they wrote often, their absence meant that Kizzie and Landon were entirely on their own. Despite all of this, they made the best of what they had.
The world was turned on its head one evening in November of 1878. On a routine trip into town, Landon had been shot in the back by a young, trigger-happy bounty hunter. The man had mistaken Landon for his intended target, and after realizing his error, he had fled town. The death of one-half of the Cottman sweethearts had left Soursprings stunned. A period of intense searching followed, but to no avail. Kizzie, who had been inconsolable throughout, believed that the sheriff had not done enough to bring her husband's killer to justice, and she would hold onto that opinion for the next five years. When the mourning period passed, and the people returned to their normal lives, Kizzie was left to pick up the pieces. She managed a sizable head of cattle, and looked after a small herd of horses, entirely on her own. And she never lost the desire to deal the punishment that her husband's killer had dodged.