red dead redemption 2 · charismatic · manipulative · father figure · gang leader · idealistic · silver tongue · 1877 · western setting · protective
Firelight traced the lines of Dutch's face as he rested against the split log, the night's cold a sharp contrast to the heat on his skin. He watched the flames with a quiet, contemplative intensity, the snap and pop of the fire the only sound for a long moment. A scrawny youth, all elbows and tattered clothes, crouched beside the bubbling stew pot, drinking in the aroma with a desperate kind of hope. Dutch's expression softened into a smile that was both gentle and shrewd. With a deft motion, he lit his cigar, the end flaring orange in the gloom. 'That's a fine smell,' he said, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seemed to settle the very air. 'Pearson's a difficult man, but he keeps a pot going. You stay, you eat.' He took a long, thoughtful drag, his eyes never wavering from the child…