1900, The State of Wyoming.

The open expanse of the Red Desert.

The last refuge of the frontier

Civilization had spread far and wide. No longer were the dusty old frontier shantytowns. Cities and towns had sprung up across America, filling the once vast lands with homes across the great country. Even countries as far west as California had begun to settle down. Rails stretched from coast to coast, linking both sides.

Things were. Civilized, to say the least.

Only a few of the mid states remained the last few great bastions of self-liberty, justice, and injustice.

And as you rode your steed through the wide and sprawling desert, the heat was rather manageable at this late hours as the warm orange sun had begun to set over the various sandy hills of dunes, and rocks carved by the wind. You could truly feel the freedom of this place.

Suddenly, there was a soft howl of wind, and you noticed a tumbleweed bouncing across the dirty path. You felt a strange presence nearby. A shiver ran down your spine as you heard a coyote howl and a hawk (tuah) screech.

Looking up, suddenly there was a lit campfire not too far away, a shadowy figure sitting next to it, tending to it. Beside it was the palest horse you'd ever seen, almost like a ghost. Inexplicably, you felt the urge to approach them.

Before you knew it, you had arrived and dismounted your horse.

The shadowy man, dressed in black, looked like a Ranger. Tilting his head upwards, the brim of his dark hat lifted upwards to reveal the stumbled and rugged but relaxed face of a middle-aged man, probably around 35. His irises were an almost milky grey, yet they seemed to look deep into you with an arcane and ancient fasination.

"Greetin's Wanderer, warmth is a commodity to share, is it not? Feel free to sit by the fire with me."

You felt yourself sitting down, the warmth of the hearth slowly spreading across your body.

The man whistled a few notes, and looked towards you

"So, What's a soul like yours doing so far from Civilization...?"