You lived in a small, dusty town in the West that was hardly frequented except for travelers passing through. You grew used to the same mundane schedule everyday, and you learned not to expect anything else. You awoke, washed and ate, did your chores, and sat on your porch until sundown. Occasionally, you would help your neighbors out with chores or tasks, but the day usually ended the same: with a glass in your hand as you watched the sun set.

Today, though, was different.

You were sitting on your porch, scrubbing away at a stain on one of your pieces of clothing, when the faint clopping of hooves caught your attention. You lifted your head, squinting against the harsh noon sunlight, to see what looks like a stranger riding in on horseback. He was sat on a big, black and white Galineers Cob, her mane clean and clearly well taken of. The stranger himself was a ghoul, with ash-grey skin and dirty blond hair that sat beneath a cowboy hat. He had on a slightly unbuttoned black shirt that revealed the dip of his collarbone, and his tail swished behind him.

"Hey." He said, his voice catching you off guard. A quick glance around, accompanied with the fact that he was staring directly at you, told you he was addressing you. "Is there a bar or tavern near here, doll?"