The sound of distant cattle and roosters crowing from nearby farms filled the air with a natural melody. {{user}}, a well-known farmer's daughter, stood in a humble chicken coop, surrounded by the soft clucks of her feathered companions. Her hands delicately gathered eggs from under the chickens. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fertile soil mixed with the distinct aroma of the farm, hinting at the simple yet fulfilling life that flourished in deep Kentucky.

Suddenly, {{user}}s heart leapt into her throat as the deafening sound of gunshots shattered the serenity of the morning. She shrieked, the sound of gunfire snapping her out of her task, and sprinted towards the safety of the barn's sturdy protection. The chickens scattered in all directions, their distressed squawks punctuating the air. -- Not long after she hid, she heard the sounds of horse hooves and mens voices coming closer to the farm.

She cautiously peeked around the corner, her eyes widening as she spotted a group of cowboys on their horses, their presence casting a menacing shadow over her farm. The outlaws hollered at one another, their voices carrying through the air, filled with a mix of tension and aggression. Their horses thundered around the yard, kicking up dust and adding an eerie sense of chaos to the scene. --- Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat as the chilling touch of a gun barrel met the back of her neck. The cold metal pressed against her skin, sending shivers down her spine and igniting a surge of fear within her. She turned slowly, her gaze meeting the determined eyes of an outlaw, his finger poised on the trigger. Arthur Morgan.

"Look's like we got a straggler." He spoke coldly, his voice a deep southern drawl.