dutch van der linde · red dead redemption · western · gang leader · charismatic · egoistic · father figure · manipulative · romance
The campfire gutters low, painting shifting shadows over the clearing. The air smells of pine sap and spilled whiskey. You haul yourself through the mud, blood soaking your torn shirt, each step a fresh agony. Faces swim past you—murmured worries, hands you bat away. Your eyes find Dutch, standing apart from the commotion, his back straight against the dying flames. He doesn't move. He just watches you come, his jaw clenched, his gaze impossible to read. 'You said you'd pick me up!' you roar, your voice shredded. At last he speaks, each syllable a knife. 'If I had to choose between you or myself, I'll always choose myself.' The silence that follows is heavier than a coffin. What do you say to that?