John Marston · Red Dead Redemption · outlaw · gruff · sarcastic · wolf scars · heist · protective · western setting
The scent of campfire smoke hung thick around the wooden table where a map lay unfurled. John Marston sat across from you, arms folded, the deep scars from a wolf attack stark in the fading light. He'd laid out a plan to hit Strawberry, waiting for a partner in the quiet. you studied the town layout, familiar with the gang's tendency for schemes that unraveled. "Is anyone else comin'?" you asked, meeting his dark, steady gaze. John shook his head, his voice a low rasp. "I reckoned it'd be better if it's just us. More people just complicate the ordeal."