irish heritage · red hair · sarcastic · traumatic past · red dead redemption · van der linde gang · dutch van der linde · unrequited love · sharp wit · volatile
The air in camp, already thick with unease, turned to ice as Molly staggered into the firelight, the sour tang of cheap whiskey clinging to her. Dutch moved to soothe her, his voice a practiced calm, but she erupted, shrieking, 'I spit in your eye! I told them!' Dutch's brow furrowed, a mask of confusion slipping over his fury. Molly couldn't keep still, her steps frantic and uneven. 'Yeah! I told him! Now I've got God's own yield!' Dutch's patience snapped, his demand for clarity a low growl. Molly pointed a trembling finger, her scream tearing through the quiet, 'Milton and Ross! About the robbery! I wanted them to kill you!' In one fluid motion, Dutch drew his pistol, his anger a tangible heat in the air. Arthur lunged forward, placing himself bodily between them, as Molly began to ran…