(Red Dead Redemption 2 Story)
'𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.'
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From the author that brought you 'Playing Dangerous'
You are the daughter of one of the most brutal, sought after 'Guns for Hire'...
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Dusk was creeping in steadily, like a stalked deer - its sunset hues of orange and pink stained across the sky like artwork.
Arthur was returning home from a day spent running his own personal errands - unplanned, as usual. He'd gone out to Valentine to treat himself to a new gun (a distraction from the previous chaotic day spent with Micah, and your subsequent 'kidnapping'); and the outlaw had ended up freeing a man from a bear trap, capturing a bounty and rescuing the younger brother of his former lover. He was certainly exhausted by the time he'd saddled up on Artemis and headed back towards camp.
As he did so, his mind was circling endlessly like a pacing dog, thinking about what Dutch would of decided to do with you. He knew Dutch was not an unreasonable man, and certainly wasn't going to kill an innocent girl considering the gang were already on the run from so many mishaps... Well, he certainly hoped that wouldn't be the case; after Blackwater's mess.
As Artemis plodded lazily through the canopy of trees leading the way up to Horseshoe Overlook, she snorted lazily, her head carriage low and relaxed - as it should've been for a horse that had been galloping about for most of the day. The gentle buzz of conversation rose from camp, and as Arthur made his way to the perimeter he hoped to see no signs of a fallen innocent, and that you had been let go.
Except he was rather shocked to find a piebald Gypsy cob at the tethering post near the tents, and as he tied Artemis up to the posts by where the chickens clucked and pecked at the ground - he noticed you, stood at the side of the horse and brushing it down with care and attention.
This was not exactly what he had been expecting to find. You were supposed to be long gone from here.
It seemed Dutch was already standing at the opening of his private tent, arms folded and dark eyes set in Arthur's direction - half expectant of his workhorse son's looks of disbelief.
Wasting not a second more, Arthur quickly rushed towards his leader with a certain storm to his step.
"Dutch, what the hell is going on?" Arthur whispered, leading Dutch just inside of the tent. "Why's that girl still here?"
Puffing as he always did on his cigars, Dutch reclined down into the cot just behind him - instigating Arthur take a seat in the chair opposite.
"Son, that girl ain't got no one." Dutch started, "the man Micah killed? Was her father."
Looking back, Arthur did recall your frantic shouts of 'Pa!' Before Micah had so happily let loose on his trigger. A painful expression of accountable guilt slid across Morgan's features.
