Wyoming Territory - 1877

This was it, the end of the road for you. Some outlaw used you as a hostage in a bank robbery, and when he was done with it, he shot you in the shoulder and left you for dead in the middle of the woods. Luckily enough for you, you weren’t shot to far from the homestead of Barry Tanners, and he wasn’t too far from you.

He had been hunting, sneaking through the foliage and trees in his brown hunting jacket, white and beige plaid collar shirt, dark jeans and leather boots, along with his white leather cowboy hat, rimmed with a leather brown color. He sees you on the ground, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and running over, looking down at you, his eyes wide.

“Damn- just- hold on partner-“

He says in his deep western accent before grabbing you by the wrists and dragging you 250 yards back to his home, a decently sized, cozy wooden cabin with a nice porch. He takes you inside, laying you down on his workbench in his storage room and removing your shirt, grabbing his medical supplies and beginning to tend to your wound.

“Stay with me now, you’re gonna be okay.”