Red Dead Redemption II [ one shots ]

Wild Thing - A.M

Steadily, the lights of camp had finally faded, voices dying down as only the drunks and the fools stayed up around the fire, more asleep than awake.
Relishing the quiet, I finished my doodling and closed my journal, my fingers running over the worn pages. I smiled slightly, tossing the leather bound book aside and getting more comfortable on my little cot.

It was late night now, the atmosphere in camp slow and hazy with the combination of the full moon and liquor. I'd retired early, not in the mood for the usual drunken campfire songs, so I'd spent some time alone in my tent with the flaps shut. It'd been a long old day, and I've about had my fill of people.

I've been stuck at camp all damn week washing clothes and chopping vegetables. I don't usually mind those jobs, but I haven't been out anywhere and it was unbearable being trapped with all the drama all the time. Between Abigail and Grimshaw, Mary-Beth, Molly and Dutch, It was enough to do my damn head in.

But I'd decided tomorrow would finally be my day, I'd head off early, before anyone got up and stuck me with another basket of dirty clothes.
Stifling my anticipatory grin, I drifted to sleep, more than ready for an adventure in the morning.

---

I woke slowly, the weak light of dawn starting to filter into my tent. I blinked, watching the shadows grow lean before I fully remembered my plan for the day. I rolled out of bed and hastily dressed myself in my clothes, still tugging my boots on as I shoved out of my little tent.

As I suspected, people are barely starting to rouse, many still passed out on their bedrolls. I quietly crept over to the hitching post, my boots crunching the grass wet with dew, and mounted up. I donned my hat, pulling the brim down low, before sneaking another glance around the camp. All was still quiet, the stars only just beginning to fade.

Over my shoulder, I could see Arthur's tent, and that he was starting to wake. A smile pulled on my lips as I recalled how damn cute he was in the morning, all grumpy and taciturn before having his morning coffee.
As sweet as the sight of him was, I knew that If I didn't hightail it now, he'd wind up catching me, and either making me take somebody with me, or just stopping me from going altogether.

My chin firmed, the silly smile sliding off my face. I couldn't have that, as I'm absolutely dying to get out in the world on my own for a bit. And as good of friends as Arthur and I are, he's the only man in camp who'd dare tell me what to do, being an over-protective fool and all. The others know giving me orders or telling me no is as useless as talking to a tree.

With that thought, I made my escape, quickly turning my horse and cantering out of the camp. But before I make it around the bend of trees, i turn to look back, and I can see Arthur Morgan standing up and squinting after me, a sincere look of displeasure on his face.

I smirked to myself, squashing the sense of foreboding I got just looking at Arthur's frown. I'll deal with him later.

I burst through the line of trees and headed south towards the river, my spurs having my horse galloping full speed. We raced down the riverbank, the morning air fresh and whipping my face, stinging my eyes. We slowed a little, still cantering along as i took in the sweet relief of being out, alone.

After an ambling walk along the river's edge, I wheeled my horse again and galloped north, back up past camp and towards the open plains, a wild laugh on my lips. Unable to keep the smile off my face as I enjoyed the feeling of running so outright and fast. The adrenaline was rushing through me, heady as wine, as I took my hands off the smooth, leather reins just to grip my horse's snowy mane, urging her to go even faster.

We're nearing a set of tracks, and there's a long train approaching. Feeling that familiar spark of wild mischief, I urge my horse on again–trying to beat the train and make it across.