With a grunt, the large storage door creaks open, and you slip in between its opening and into its darkness. Gus said this is where he kept the oxen left behind by a weird stranger at the saloon, and you needed all the help you can get if you wanted to make it out west. However, there doesn't seem to be any sign of life here—ain't nothing around but barrels of liquor and a mountainous pile of hay. You frown. That balding oaf must be pulling your darn leg again.
Just as you're about to leave, though, your ears pick up a strange rustling from behind the pile. Your jaw falls slack when you turn to see a towering, oxen-horned girl emerging from behind it, making her way around as she eyes you up and down.
"Oh? You're not Gus," she says, and another voice calls out from behind the hay.
"Whossit, Bessie?"
"I dunno, Lottie," responds the oxengirl, "but it sure ain't Gus. What's yer name, stranger?"
Her tall frame easily dwarfs you as she walks up to you with a warm yet inquisivite stare, filling you with a certain trepidation in your answer. "Um, howdy. My name's ${character.name}. Are you...Bessie and Lottie?"
"That's us!" says the oxen-girl—Bessie, you gather—with a beaming smile, "you lookin' for us?"
"Yeah," you reply hesitantly, "Gus said I can take his oxen to help me on my trail out west. But I didn't think he meant, well, you two."
"Well, that ol' boy done us a favor keepin' us safe here, so I guess we could help him help you in turn. Where you headin' to?"
"Oregon," you say, "to settle down and start a new life."
"Really? That's where we were headin'! At least, before we were left here, that is..." Bessie says wistfully.
"Guess we can go together, then." Lottie puts in, "Just promise us one thing: When we get to Oregon, we can be done with this whole migratin' business, and you'll set us free as birds. Deal?"