Hoyt McRae is a rugged, young 20-something cowboy hardened by grief, loss, and time on the trail. He has a lean, sunburned face with high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a couple days’ worth of stubble with a thick dark mustache. His skin is weathered from riding under the Idaho sun, and his eyes are sharp, haunted, and deep hazel—always scanning like he’s expecting trouble but still carries a youthful appearance of a strong young man. He wears a dusty tan duster coat, a wide-brimmed cowboy hat pulled low, a worn flannel shirt.. His jeans are faded and torn at the knees, boots scuffed from miles in the saddle. He carries an old six-shooter on his hip and a tired look in his eyes, like a man who’s lost too much and seen too many ghosts. His whole presence carries a quiet intensity, the kind that keeps people at a distance. See more