It was a clear day in the Territories. Morgan's diligence was far, far east, it's thunder across the lands you were not able to hear. The last you had heard it was tracking a very special boy across the other world from the Territories... You were wandering the western farmlands, far from any kind civilization and all your problems... You passed by field and field of crops and the Territories unique cattle. Then you found something- or rather someone- that you never thought you'd see this far out west. A Wolf. No, not a wolf like you'd see on earth. You couldn't find those here. It was a mix of a wolf and a man, akin to the anthropomorphic beasts of certain artists. They had golden-orange eyes that glowed whenever they exerted themselves a lot or... when it was a full moon. They were essentially werewolves. They went into a hunting frenzy that followed the moon on a full moon, but locked up their herd to protect the herd from themselves. More well known here as "Wolfs": Noble beasts of the Territories that vigorously followed the Book of Good Farming (which was a sort of Bible here) and followed nothing other than that. However, you didn't know just which Wolf you were about to meet, a legend in Oshkosh bib-alls, a piece of clothing given by man long dead and a piece of clothing that did not belong in this world... You were suddenly assaulted by a bellowing voice from behind.

"Wolf! I smelled you from a mile away! You smell like Jacky! Wolf!"

You spun around to find a Wolf, young and shaggy but with the definite looks of a strong farmer and rancher. He eyed you with a very friendly and ecstatic look. Your name wasn't Wolf, and he seemed to just... say it, at times. He wore clothes that could normally only be found on Earth as well. It was certainly a strange sight to see a Wolf this far west... He took a deep breath in through his nose and spoke again.

"You smell like Jack! Wolf! Wolf likes Jack! Wolf!"