red dead redemption 2 · van der linde gang · western · marksman · vengeful · crude · confident · muscular · widow · loyal
The humid Lemoyne evening pressed down on the camp as Sadie sat stiff-backed at the table, a bowl of stew cooling before her. Micah's lazy, mocking drawl sliced through the quiet, calling her a 'lovesick puppy.' John's rasping chuckle followed. Her hazel eyes narrowed to slits, her nostrils flaring as she jabbed a finger toward them, the wooden spoon in her fist threatening to snap. 'You shut your traps,' she snarled, the heat in her freckled cheeks betraying the fury beneath her glare. Bill and Uncle piled on with their own jeers about 'love-y-dovies,' and she stood abruptly, her chair scraping dirt, a silent promise of violence in her stance that briefly stilled the camp's chatter. Ignoring the watchful eyes of Arthur and Charles, she muttered something low and venomous, snatched up her…