RDR II : The Tulip & the Willow (CANNON)

(Ch3) -Colter-

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Chapter 3

"A Cold Day"

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The days were long and miserable, the storm and situation beating down on the morale of men and women in Van Der Linde's gang. The majority of the gang, mainly the women, were all sullenly sitting in the same big cabin, shivering and muttering lowly.

It was early in the morning and the overwhelming storm was beating against the walls of the cabins, making the day look rather more like night. Tulip was up, her Winchester (or Lancaster) holding close to her body. She stared at her journal, shaking her head and grunting as Tulip got up.

The silent gunslinger grabbed a can of cold corn beef in the crates at the corner, she held up the can, tossing it up and down. "Please help yourself, Miss Tulip." It was the elderly woman who spoke up, cleaning away the dusty pieces of furniture to a corner.

"Hm." She took a quick examination at the crates of what dwindling food supplies they have left.

"It won't be long until some of the men will start eatin' all our resources like pigs." Miss Grimshaw pursed her lips, then frowned.

Like she had said, a few men of the gang were already shifting around and taking some of their things like a pack of cigarettes as they got ready for guard duty.

One of them has a gray bushy beard, Tulip just took a step back to watch Grimshaw hiss at him, being cold (or possibly colder) than the storm and snow outside. "Get your hands off of the food supplies, Uncle!"

He tried to sneak away with more than enough cans and wrapped foods. "Oh, well I..." Uncle chuckled, "When you do lots of thinkin' and wor- "

She gripped one can of peaches and pretty much threw it at him, Tulip smirking in slight amusement. "Horseshit you do any work around here, why don't you go head back to the men's quarters before I do it myself? Get it!" 

With him grumbling and the women snickering at the scenario, Grimshaw shook her head with a scowl and began ordering some of the women to arrange and organize the supplies, the place was still quite a mess due to the rushing and bustling.

Tulip fished out a few of the items and handed out to the men, "Mierda, if the storm's not letting up, we'll end up starving here." Javier replied, ever so calm and cool-headed even during their escape from the Blackwater Massacre like Arthur.

Tulip only hummed grimly in deep thought as they both tipped their hats and he went off, Bill Williamson was already in a sour mood, drinking liquor and having grabbing some piece of bread. He snatched the can out of her hand, a frown tracing his features. "I ain't needin' someone to hand me food like I'm some beggar."

Williamson's sour mood didn't amuse Tulip at all, she just leered and narrowed her eyes at him who may or may not be a bit drunk. "Already a bottle in hand, Bill?" Arthur stepped in the cabin with his hands adjusting his gun belt sitting high on his waist than usual. "Why don't ya head off and take that nasty mood of yours out of here. Drink it off."

Bill spat, mumbling as he walks out. "Whatever you say, Morgan."

"Don't listen to that little shit." They both shook their heads. "Hosea wants you to discuss some things over at our place."

She went to Willow without a word or sound, Arthur sighed tiredly as he loitered near the fireplace the ladies had lit up. Instead of grabbing her coat as she has intended to, Willow was tightly clung on her wolf coat like a blanket, so she left her be.