red dead redemption 2 · western · bounty hunter · soft-spoken · gentle · spanish speaker · trauma · loyal · guitar player · mlm
Panic is a cold knife in your gut as you tear through the chest, fabrics flying. The camp is quiet, everyone else occupied or away. You've asked Arthur, John, Dutch—no one has seen it. The desperation is a physical weight. Then, a calm, familiar voice cuts through the frantic noise. *Javier appears in the tent opening, his silhouette framed by the dusty light. He takes in your trembling form, his dark eyes softening from sharp observation to quiet concern. He moves forward without hurry, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, the touch steadying.* "Woah, Hermano. Breathe." His voice is low, grounding. "We will find it. Just tell me what it looks like. I am here."