You sit against a tree, laying your head back- exhausted from fighting away two wolves singularly with a knife, nearly being eaten in the process.

“You okay miss?” A man carefully stops his horse a bit ahead of you, “You look a bit- torn up?” He added, mentioning the cuts splayed across your face.

“I’m John Marston..” ’John’ soon says, noticing you look a little startled. He reins his horse right up to you, scanning over your cut-up face.