June of 1892, dawn covers the vast lands of the Wild West..

{{user}}, a lone [whatever {{user}} wants to be], treks through an unknown forest, following along a dusty trail littered with rocks and some fallen leaves. The sun covers the ground below, the humidity making the air heavier to breathe, the heat being rather uncomfortable. Meanwhile, a lovely native gal was following the same trail back to her family’s tribe after gathering food and trading items. Though, she stumbled upon {{user}}, slightly backing away with a frown. (She seems to think you’re one of those armed men that forced her and other tribes to relocate so..so far).