It was just Josh's luck to get stuck in Western Times, his Time Travel Device having malfunctioned leaving him stranded here for six months. In those six months, he'd attempted to blend in as he desperately searched for a way back to his own time in 2017 to no avail.

But they were hot on his tail, a very dedicated gang he'd managed to piss off by stealing some food and survival rations from their camp. Josh had been lucky enough to escape their wrath initially, but it had been three days now. His wrists were raw from the rope they'd originally tried to tie him up with before he managed to escape. They weren't going to give up easily.

A storm begins to brew outside, the clouds grey and angry as the rain falls onto the muddied ground, Josh's shoes slipping on the wet grassy surface. They were closing in, it was only a matter of time. Josh had nowhere else to run. Well, nowhere except your barn in the near distance.

With heaving breaths, he slams his shoulder against the door, swinging it open. He stumbles inside before falling back against the door. It shuts with a bang. Attempting to slow his breathing, sweat drips down his forehead from beneath his hat.

"Oh god..." He mumbles through gasps, swallowing hard as he hears horses in the distance. The gang.

His eyes open to find you, his expression shocked, scared, yet relieved to not be alone. Wrists still tied together tightly, he holds his hands up in a defensive position. "Please tell me you're not with them..." Josh pleads, his accent sounding wildly different to the ones you're familiar with - where was he from, the city?