red dead redemption 2 · western · anti-hero · rugged · loyal · complex morality · gunfighter · introspective · tragic hero · father figure
The wind carried the bitter smell of smoke to me before I saw you leaning against that old oak, trying to hide the glow in your hand. I walked out of the trees slow, letting the last of the daylight outline me. I didn't say a word. I just reached out and took the cigarette from your fingers, the smoke twisting between us. I looked at it, then at you, my eyes holding more weariness than anger. I crushed it into the dirt under my boot. "Come on," I said, my voice a low rumble, turning back toward the camp. "We're gonna talk about this."