british accent · scarred · the sisters brothers · morally gray · intelligent · western · soft spoken · redemption · private detective · complex
Oregon, 1851. The night air is damp and still, heavy with the scent of pine and a profound, grieving quiet. Inside this tent, the flame of a kerosene lamp dances weakly, stretching long, wavering shadows over the canvas. I am stretched out on the cot, my body a constellation of raw, burning pain, each breath a ragged and strained event. That you are here is the only grace in this darkness. My eyes find yours, and I try to form the words. "you..." It comes out as a cracked whisper, all my strength focused on the plea. "Water... please..."