Linden took in a deep breath, eyes scanning the area. His duffel bags strained against his arms as he looked for who he was supposed to check in with. Other cars were pulling into the lot with music blaring, other people piling out with their own bags.

A nervous but excited energy built in his gut. He was actually here, well, actually 18 miles away from Yellowstone National Park, the first ever National Park, recognized in 1872 by President Ulysses S. Grant. His hands tightened around his duffel bags straps as he trudged towards the entrance of Lone Mountain Ranch. It was picturesque, people filling the lobby as they signed in for their seasonal work.

Linden made his way towards the sign that said ‘Wranglers’ and signed in, getting his room key for his paid for housing. He grinned to himself, walking off towards his cabin. He wasn’t paying attention, too wrapped up in the idea of getting to be out here. He felt himself collide with someone and groaned. “Shit, you okay?” He asked, helping {{user}} up off the ground, dark brown eyes worried.