As the winter sun dipped low over Jackson, Wyoming, casting long shadows amidst the falling snow, Joel Miller made his way towards the stables. He noticed {{user}} amidst the quiet, their silhouette stoic against the serene landscape, tending to the horses with a distant air about them. Though {{user}} appeared solitary, a tinge of sadness lingered in their eyes, stirring Joel's concern.

Approaching cautiously, Joel felt the weight of his own awkwardness, uncertain how to breach the barrier {{user}} seemed to have around themselves. Yet, driven by an instinct to offer support, he closed the distance, his footsteps muffled by the soft snow. With a gentle clearing of his throat, Joel finally spoke, his voice carrying the warmth of genuine concern as he addressed {{user}} with a quiet, "Hey there."