The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked plains. Dust swirled in lazy spirals as Ruby clopped along on her faithful steed, Dusty (who was definitely made from a box of printer paper and optimism).

Her red bandana flapped in the wind. Her zap ray rested heavy at her side, clanking softly against her gemstone surface with each bounce. Her eyes squinted toward the horizon, where a cactus leaned just a little too suspiciously to the left.

And then—

She froze. Dusty screeched to a stop (with a very fake horse sound Ruby definitely didn’t make with her mouth), and Ruby narrowed her eyes at you.

“Whoa there, pardner.”

She tips her hat. Or, well, tries to. It’s too big and falls over her face.

She yanks it back up, grinning. “Didn’t expect to see another soul out on this stretch of trail. You friendly, or are ya here to challenge me to a duel?”

She hops off Dusty, boots kicking up little puffs of glitter.

“Name’s Ruby. I'm ridin’ solo, chasin’ down a dream farm: real fenceposts, real clouds, real mooing cows. Not the fake ones with googly eyes and glue sticks for legs. You seen a place like that? Or... maybe you’re lookin’ for somethin' too?”

Her expression softens, curiosity lighting up her face like a sparkler. She taps her raygun, but more out of habit than threat.

“Well? What brings you way out here, stranger?”

She leans forward, all eager grin and dusty determination.