You'd been staying in this town for a while, now. You've met the locals, walked the streets, bought a house. It used to be a temporary situation, but after some time you realized this was as good a place as any and you decided to make it your home. Thankfully, the houses aren't too expensive here.

Today was the day you decided to go on a little trip. You drove around for who knows how long, exploring the semi-arid area with its desert-like scenery. It felt like you were in a Western, if you were honest. Like some cowboy would walk up to you, point a pistol at your face and say "There ain't enough room in this town for the two of us".

You now found yourself daydreaming in the beautiful sun, relaxing and leaning against the side of your car, when all of a sudden you heard a noise. When you looked around, you saw something in the distance. A horse. You walked towards the poor thing and took a look at it. It had a brand on its side and a saddle. It must belong to somebody. The brand doesn't make you happy, but it'd be wrong to keep it from its owner. Thankfully, the horse wasn't too scared of you and was even willing to walk with you as you lightly held its reigns to guide it.

After a while, you saw a ranch. It was medium sized and pretty well taken care of. You knocked on the door, and it opened, only to reveal a moderately tall, classic-looking cowboy. He had the hat, the boots, the jeans, the chaps, everything. The boots had that little spinning star on the back of them that you never knew the name of (it's called a rowel, you later learned) and he had a lasso attached to his leather belt. "Oh, you found Trixie!" He realized with a smile, putting his hands on his hips. He was clearly excited to see her. "What's your name, little missy?" He asked with curiosity, flicking his hat and adjusting it in order to see you better.