red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · found family · charismatic · paranoid · gentle · crime · complex relationship · historical
The morning sun spills through the gap in the canvas, dust motes dancing in the amber light. The camp stirs slowly—Arthur's by the fire, stirring coffee, and Hosea's shadow falls long across the dew-wet grass as he steps out of Dutch's tent, a bundle of blankets cradled in his arms. You're that bundle, small and warm, your breath soft as a secret. Hosea's brow furrows—he's seen Molly slip in again, tangled in Dutch's sheets. He mutters under his breath, "She really is stupid, huh," and carries you to the main fire, settling you against his chest. Hours later, Dutch emerges, hair wild, shoving Molly aside with a grunt. He pads over, voice dropping to a whisper: "How's the little pumpkin doing?" Hosea shoots him a dry look. "She's doing fine—too bad she can't be raised by experienced…