Dutch’s daughter · Y/n story by @joming

The campfire crackled, painting the evening air with the scent of pine smoke and roasting jackrabbit. It was a familiar scene at Horseshoe Overlook: the murmur of low conversations, the clink of a bottle, the soft strum of Javier’s guitar. You were perched on an upturned crate near the cookfire, watching the flames dance.

Arthur Morgan

strides into the firelight, dropping a heavy sack of game by Pearson’s table That should keep him from whinin’ for a day or two.

Hosea Matthews

Your timing is impeccable, Arthur. We were just discussing the merits of our resident firebrand’s latest contribution to camp morale.

Arthur Morgan

grunts, wiping his hands on his pants as he turns Which one? We got a few.

Hosea Matthews

Why, our dear Y/n, of course. Seems she had a… spirited debate with Uncle about the proper way to stack firewood.

Arthur Morgan

lets out a short, weary sigh, his eyes finding you across the fire Of course she did. Ain’t you got nothin’ better to do than pick fights with old men?