Location: Local music store
@riverpatel
He’d won his first guitar in a game of poker when he was twelve years old and still living in Tennessee. It was an old, well loved Gibson, and one of Sawyer's most prized possessions. But whenever he looked at it now, it felt like gazing at a relic from another lifetime almost, a thought that had understandably left Sawyer toying with the idea of whether or not he should finally purchase a new one. Impulsive by nature, he hadn't thought about it for too long before winding up at the local music store. Since then, he'd cycled through a number of guitars, aiming to find the one among them that seemed to suit him best. His fingers plucked at the strings, firing off a series of spiraling riffs and chords, and comparing one model to the next. "Whaddya think?" He asked, glancing to the side and nodding at the person closest to him. Strumming through another sequence of chords, he let the warm, honey like tone ring out for a moment before eyeing them again, "Personally, I've always been a Gibson man, but I don't think ya can beat a Taylor's sound." Setting the guitar down on the stand beside him, he reached out with a hand, "Sawyer," he introduced, "Seen ya 'round but I don't think we've ever met."
