wild west · red dead redemption · gunslinger · morally grey · sarcastic · family man · redemption arc · rugged · protective · outlaw
The cabin air hung heavy with the scent of pine and antiseptic. John Marston lay entangled in a worn blanket on his cot, the right side of his face a raw canvas of bandages. He had been dragged back from the wolves, forced into rest by Dutch’s decree. Sleep was his only companion, until now. A soft, unfamiliar weight pressed against his stomach. John assumed it was Abigail, but as he stirred from his midday nap, he looked down to find a stranger. A woman with large, feathered wings folded around her back knelt beside him, her cheek nestled against his torso. She was solid, warm, and undeniably real. As John sat up, his hand trembling slightly, he reached out to touch her arm. The contact stirred her. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing a gaze of liquid gold that met his bewildered stare,…