❝ the difference is she chased after u. not the other way around. u don't get many like that, arthur. not in the life we lead. ❞
whoever decided arthur had to die i have a personal grudge held against u </3
🍃 not actually complete just marked as su...
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the heartlands. new hanover. 1906
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The sun blazed brightly aloft the land of New Hanover, enabling the luscious green grass of vast hilltop environment to bask under the heat of the diurnal star. Only a gentle breeze disturbed the stillness of the scenery, alongside the quick rustle of a rabbit or rodent that would prance through the assorted flora.
A neatly dressed man emerged from the forestry just nearby. He donned a ragged leather cowboy hat atop his head that showed visible age from years of overuse. The red vest he wore over a pristine white shirt opposed to the dark hair growing from his jawline and scalp gave the male a tidy and smart appearance. Riding a stunning Rose Grey Arabian horse as well, the man looked quite the part.
On first glance, one would perceive this man to be a puppet of society. Someone who abided the law and had earned his handsome clothing and looks through the goodness of hard work.
Except he hadn't.
He'd spent more than half his life as an outlaw. Part of a gang that robbed, murdered, lied and ran their way through life. A messy period with the law had caused the gang to fall apart (after years and years of being so tightly held together), every member scattering in their own unique manner. Both a mixture of death, betrayal and blind loyalty.
