The Dusty Shamrock ~ OC RDR2 fanfiction

Chapter 3

I struggled to settle, it was night time and everyone was asleep but I just couldn't seem to settle my head. So much had happened this week. My father died, all the ponies were gone, I'd slept rough for two nights, fending off O'Driscolls, and then Arthur and Dutch came along to rescue me. It's gone so fast, so much has happened in such little time. I couldn't sleep with all of that going through my head, my oil lamp was still on. There was a crate beside my bed with a journal on it, I picked it up. I'd wondered if someone had left it there, but I looked inside and it was empty. I pulled a pencil from my pocket and began to sketch something. However eventually growing frustrated and halting my artwork for the time being.

After a while, I grew frustrated and bored. I still couldn't sleep though. Amongst the silence, I heard footsteps approaching my tent. I stiffened up, given my previous situation- I was still very much on edge. I peeked through the flaps of the tent to see who was there, I had my hand on my pistol just in case, thankfully it was only Arthur.
"Can't sleep?" I hummed in agreement, before motioning for him to into my tent. He smiled, gladly accepting my invitation.
"Since you're Irish, I bought you a little home comfort" Arthur drawled, handing me a bottle of Irish Whiskey. I chuckled, I thanked him. I popped the bottle open and took a swig of it, it was strong, but it was so familiar and nostalgic. I offered a swig and accepted it, he took a swig- coughing as soon as the alcoholic drink touched his throat.
"Holy shit" he coughed "that is some strong stuff, how in the hell do you drink that without coughing a lung up?"
"I'm used to it" I simply answered.

Me and Arthur continued chatting all through the night, apparently he promised himself he wouldn't sleep until I did. He was incredibly sweet, he loved nature, he loved to write and to draw. By sunrise, we really did know each other inside out.
"I'd better get out there, Hosea and I are going fishing to get food" I hummed, it would be strange spending the day with people I didn't particularly know but I'd have to get to know them all eventually. Arthur got up and left the tent, leaving me by myself.

I stepped out my tent to be greeted by Dutch.
"Mornin' Miss Bronagh, how're you feeling?"
"Much better, thank you. The stew was wonderful, just what I needed" I smiled.
"Well, you need to get to know the gang" Dutch secured his arm around my shoulder, just like a father would, and led me to the campfire "How would you like to go hunting with Charles here?" I though about it, hunting sounded grand to me. I smiled at who had been introduced as Charles.
"Hunting? Sounds wonderful" Dutch left Charles and I to become acquainted with one another. "I'm Bronagh, Bronagh O'Cealleigh" I held out my hand for Charles to shake. He hurriedly stood up straight and smoothed his wrinkled shirt out before shaking my hand, rather timidly.
"I hear we're going hunting?" I nodded "So, have you much hunting experience?" Charles raised an eyebrow, staring down at me.
"Well" I started "only 5 years hunting in Irish country side and 11 years hunting in the woods and surrounding area on our old homestead" I chuckled. Charles muttered a "wow" before enquiring me further.
"So that's 16 years of hunting experience, how old were you when you started?"
"Uh, like 7 years old?" I tried to think how old I was, but I didn't really remember.
"That's- wow" he chuckled " let's go and saddle up, I have a spare bow you can have" I nodded in recognition.
"Thank you, that's very kind"
"It's no problem" Charles and I saddled our horses up, he gave me a simple but sufficient bow accompanied with a quiver filled with arrows. I thanked him again for his generosity.

We rode out to the nearest forest, just near a shallow stream which was whitetail deer habitat. After dismounting, we found a line of tracks which looked just like deer tracks. We followed the tracks, staying low and out of sight until we stumbled upon two deers, feeding just by the stream.
"You get the one on the right, I'll get the one on the left" Charles whispered, I nodded.
"Roger that" I drew the arrow back, breathing in just as my father had always instructed. I looked to Charles, he nodded and we both let go of our Arrows. Both arrows hit the deers.
"Nice shot" we both said at the same time, making each other laugh. I stood up and brushed the dirt off my knees before we made our way across the stream to collect the deer. One was slightly smaller than the other, I took the smaller one and Charles took the bigger one.
"Do you think your horse could carry a couple wild turkey's too?" Charles pointed to the forest clearing where wild turkeys pecked and clucked whilst strutting around.
"I'm sure he could, your shot or mine?" I laughed.
"If you can shoot one o' them turkeys from here, I'll give you $5" Charles laughed in ignorance. Little did he know, I can shoot a chicken from 2 miles away. I placed the deer on the floor and drew my arrow back on the bow, taking my aim. I took a deep breath in and then out to let go of my bow string. I couldn't look, nervous that I'd lost my touch over the years. It was only when Charles gasped and said "holy shit" that I looked at where I had aimed.

I'd shot the turkey right in the head.

I laughed, loudly, picking the deer I was carrying back up. I started walking towards the dead turkey, I looked back to see Charles still in shock. I picked the turkey up, smiling proudly at my work.
"You owe me five dollars" I hollered, sauntering back over to my hunting partner.