Strangers By Nature | Red Dead Redemption II |

Chapter Three | A Curious Hand

- ONE MONTH LATER -

The snow hasn't thawed yet, in fact, it's getting worse. Of course Peter would choose out of all times, the middle of a winter storm to escape. And now he's trapped, here with Arthur. Not that he minds. Not at all.

Peter sat in front of the fire, watching the flames intently. Fire always had an almost hypnotic effect on him. He had his knife out, looking at it. Arthur was behind him, sitting in a chair as he wrote away in some sort of journal. He seems to do that a lot.

His head was feeling better, he even told Arthur nearly a week ago he was probably okay to be on his own. Yet Arthur insisted he stayed with him.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Arthur said, Peter flicked his head to the side as he put away his blade.
"Yeah. I guess so." The boy replied as Arthur closed his journal. Stuffing it back into his bag.
"If you didn't like it there. Why were ya still with those bastards?"
"When I was young they swooped me up. Got put into somethin' too young to notice it's wrongs. Couldn't leave. Nobody can. The second one of us leaves camp, men are sent out to kill 'em. Reckon they're lookin' for me right now."

After his family...

"You have family there?" Arthur asked,
"No," Peter said, his entire body stiffened as he was forced to recall memories of suffering.
"Why'd they let you join that circus."
"They weren't around to stop me." If they were around, they would've kept him hostage at home until his final days.
"What happened to 'em?" Arthur asked,
"Drop it," Peter demanded, it wasn't a question.
"We'll hang on you sa-"
"I said drop it, Arthur."
"I won't." Arthur insisted.

Peter felt himself growing scared, suddenly he needed to leave this cabin. Right now. And it's with a swiftness he stumbles out into the snow, barefoot and in tears as he stumbles away. Arthur shouted something unclear.

He couldn't feel his feet anymore, it was so cold he almost wanted to sink into the snow. And he did, laying down deep in the icy cold powder.
"Peter! The hell'r you doin'!" Arthur shouted, running outside after him.

Arthur didn't know why he cared so much all of a sudden, this was a stranger. Just some random boy. But his heart, his mind, everything told him to help him.

Arthur shuffled over to Peter, finding him in a ball shivering in the snow.
"Peter?" Arthur asked with concern, reaching down to touch him on the shoulder. Peter flinched at the touch, looking up through tears and red cheeks.
"Leave me," Peter said,
"What?" Arthur was taken aback, why would he want to lay in this weather? He'll die!
"Go back to the cabin."
"You'll catch yer death out here?"
"Maybe I wanna die."

Arthur paused for a moment, maybe he should've left Peter outside. But for whatever reason he just... couldn't. So against Peter's wishes, Arthur picked him up, hoisting him over his strong shoulder as the boy laid limp in tears.

Once they were back in front of the fire, they began to warm up. Peter laid with a frown, almost entirely dissolved into sorrow.
"Don't do that again," Arthur said, looking over with concern. Peter didn't budge. "How old are you?" Arthur asked,
"Twenty-Nine."
"Then why you actin' like some kid?" Peter was taken aback for a moment, he's never really asked himself why he acts the way he does.

"I... I don't know." Peter looked over at Arthur,
"You're an adult. Act like it alright, now I understand you didn't have a good childhood but that's no excuse to waste away your life like this." There's no life to waste away, he has nothing and nobody. No point in showing hope in something hopeless Peter thinks.

"You don't understand." The boy mumbled,
"I watched my father die in front of me. My momma too. My... my son. I know what it's like to hurt, Peter. But the difference between you and me, I keep pushin'. No matter what."
"I can't keep pushin' like you. I don't have anything to push for:" No family. No friends. No job. No home. Not even a pet.
"Then push for yerself."