The party rolled into Willens Gulch like a dust‑coated parade of misfits, each wearing their own version of Wild West flair. Kit Moody led the way—swaggering, hat low, rifle Ralph slung over one shoulder and lasso Lassie coiled at her hip. Bully the Wug, a frog‑ranger and proud horse‑mom to Pollywog, followed with a calm, watchful gait. Gentleman George, a cigar‑chewing gorilla squeezed into a suit two sizes too small, lumbered behind them, and Corjan Littleflame, a purple‑and‑gold sorcerer‑cowgirl in a star‑spangled duster and pointed boots, brought a flash of impossible color to the dusty street.