A Red Dead Redemption story.
A seasoned bounty hunter, you've buried your past beneath the weight of your work. But a brush with the notorious Van der Linde gang unravels everything. Amid bullets and bloodshed, you discover love and a sense of belon...
Returning back to Horseshoe Overlook, you reaffirmed your decision with Dutch and Hosea. Arthur told you numerously there was no need, "we're a bunch of tag-a-long's in anyways." You heard this thick Southern draw in your head. However, you felt it was only right to confirm your new found loyalty, to the only people in the world you've ever related to.
"And you can hunt?" Hosea questioned, "Of course I can!" you replied quickly. Hosea's eyes lit up, "I gave my old hunting map to Arthur, maybe you could tag along with him sometime," his suggestion wasn't such a bad idea, "obviously, when he isn't busy causing mayhem that is."
Standing up from the wooden crate he perched on, Hosea bid you goodnight, leaving only you and Dutch outside of his tent. Authoritarian grandiosity intimidating you once again, Dutch took a final draw on his cigar, throwing the butt on the ground.
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"So," puffing a plume of left over cigar smoke from his mouth, "you can hunt, shoot a gun," he listed, taking a pause to examine your (e/c) eyes, "not to undermine a lady, we have a lot of em' here," letting a hearty chuckle escape his lips. "But we all know their stories, being the difference."
Your heart thumped, Dutch wanted to know your secrets and you didn't have Arthur here to cover for you. Seeing you safely back to camp, he rode out south-west to meet Javier and Charles; who were scouting out Blackwater in the retrieval effort of Sean MacGuire - an Irish stick up man who, you understood, was quite the character.
"Well," you started, it was now or never. Taking a sip of Kentucky Bourbon, you knew you were about to face the inevitable.
"I—well—" you stammered, but Dutch's gaze never wavered. "I worked as a bounty hunter for a short time." There it was, out in the open, you braced yourself for execution at this point.
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Dutch sat back on his crate. Silence filled the canopy like salt water seeping in through a sinking boat. Say somethin' Dutch, you thought to yourself. Rubbing your fingers together, you took another swig of liquor, hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.
"It would be useful to have knowledge of the goings on of the law.." Dutch finally omitted, indirectly, as if he were speaking his thoughts out loud. "Huh? So you're okay with me—?" Bewilderment laced your tone, to your relief Dutch let out a chuckle.
