Leo the Lemon squinted against the fading light, his whiskered mouth twitching with anticipation. The desert had been his companion for days, but now, the promise of a town and a fresh salad bar beckoned him forward.
Leo the Lemon dismounted, tying a rope around the bird's neck. The blue bird eagerly dipped its beak into the murky water, unbothered by the film of moss. "Drink up, Bluebee," Leo said, patting its feathery side.
Leo pushed through the swinging doors, the aroma of fresh greens drawing him toward the salad bar. Behind the counter stood a burly crocodile, his apron adorned with whimsical pins. Crocodile Host eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
"Are you old enough for this bar, youngen?" the Crocodile Host asked, his voice a low rumble. Leo flashed his ID, grinning. "Just turned 21," he replied, taking a seat as the piano's melody filled the room.
The Avocado Kid strode to the salad bar, determination etched on his face. "We don't want your kind here," the Crocodile Host growled, but the stranger simply nodded, filling his plate and finding a quiet corner.
[@ch_3]The Avocado Kid[/@ch_3_d]"I don't like that song,"[/@ch_3_d] he said, pointing a finger. The chandelier crashed down, silencing the piano. As the dust settled, the stranger rose, a mix of defiance and sadness in his eyes. "Time to ride off," he murmured, leaving the saloon as the sun set beyond the horizon.
