#Sure it can get you to the PA Dutch area but you gotta do a big loop practically

[fiveisnumber1]

That feeling when you start making a post about how you believe (with good reasoning) the unnamed city that TUA is set in, is Jersey City, but then you start looking at the map that Five used for the road trip with all his road side attraction markings and come to realize the path they are following makes no sense in terms of getting to the notable Pennsylvania dutch area of PA. So now you’re on a personal side quest to figure out what is going on with the map.

[annaphoenix1994]

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 2 - Pronghorn Ranch - The Wheel

Fall, 1907

"That was close," Abigail huffed, aggravated with the rough terrain the wagon was on as the scared couple were now fleeing again due to an incorrect action of John, although he didn't see it that way. "Too close! We brought that trouble on ourselves."

"By we, you mean me." John corrected.

"It wasn't me who went and shot him."

"Seemed like he deserved shooting."

"I'm sure he did, but I been thinking ain't it about time you stopped being the man making them decisions?"

"I'm trying."

"Are you?"

"I think so."

Abigail huffed, "We gotta find some place to lay low and keep quiet."

"Maybe Dutch was right. Maybe we should have just gone to Tahiti."

"Is that it with you? Tahiti or killing? Come on, John, please try!"

"Try what?"

"We gotta live somewhere for more than just a few weeks. You wanted to go up and try our hand at the Gold Rush and you see how far that got us - sittin' somewhere in eastern Tennessee with a thumb up our ass wonderin' where to even start."

"Okay..." John nodded. "Let's see what we can find in... Strawberry. What do you know about Strawberry?" He pointed, turning the single horse to the left of the main path.

"I know they like good, honest, hard-working men a whole lot more than angry killers. So make yourself good and honest."

"I am always honest. Maybe not always good, but I'm always honest."

"My whole life I've been surrounded by fools with moral codes. Here's a moral code: look out for folks. Stop trying to act like some hero in a book."

"What do you know about heroes in books?" John scoffed.

"My reading's getting pretty good."

"Well read different books then."

"The book is Jack's. And, well, maybe he's doing most of the reading, but still."

"You're a bad influence on your mother, boy," John joked to his now twelve-year-old son. "Boy?"

"S-Sorry, sir. What was that?"

"I said you're a bad influence on your mother with your books."

"Which books was that?"

"You know, that dime novel, Boy Calloway and the Men from the Moon, or whatever it was." Abigail waved her hand.

"I'll do my best to find better reading material, Pa."

"That what you like then? Western tales?" John questioned, only to be answered by a few brief moments of silence. "Boy?"

"Oh... W-What's that, Pa?"

"Do you enjoy tales of the Wild West?"

"Not so much... Anymore. I been readin' about Knights. You know, of the round table."

"The king... What's his name?"

"There's King Arthur, and there's Sir Lancelot, and the Lady Guinevere, and a whole lot of others." Jack explained with glee on his expression at the talk of his interests.

"Those names..."

"I kind of like 'em."

"You know what? So do I."

"I think that sign says 'Strawberry', don't it?" Abigail spoke, breaking the few minutes of a quiet ride as she took note of a new chill in the air as they were deeper into the valley of the northern regions of West Elizabeth. "I got a good feelin' about this place. It's been a long time." She smiled, the wagon slowing to a soft roll as they approached the main bridge that divided the town from the housing area. "Why don't you pull up just here?" She pointed to the general store, eager to find something to cure her hunger, secretly hoping to bunk at the lodge for the night as it was rather divine.

"I'm gonna go see what good, honest work I can find. Gravedigging, or polishing some rich feller's boots or some such." John chuckled, setting the brake on the wagon before hoisting himself down, rolling his shoulders back for a needed stretch.

"Me too. See if me and the boy can find some laundry work or something." Abigail replied, her first area to job hunt being the doctor's office.

"Help you, son?" The old shopkeeper asked, seeing John's new face enter his store.

"I'm hoping I can help you. I saw the help wanted sign outside." John replied.

"Sure, but uh, you're a bit old to be stackin' groceries and runnin' errands, ain't you son?"

"Well, I... Uh, I ain't too proud to do nothing. As long as it's honest and it pays."

"Times hard, Mister..."

"Milton. Jim Milton. Yeah, my wife and I, and our boy, we was robbed a few days ago. Lucky to get out with our lives, we was. Well, we need money."

The shopkeeper shook his head in disbelief at the talk of lowlifes still robbing innocent folks. Walking back behind his counter, he checked off a few things off of his own list before continuing. "There's bad folk out there." He sighed.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Got a wagon by any chance?"

"Sure."

"Well, then, maybe you could run some goods up to Pronghorn Ranch for me? You know head west past Owanjila, then follow the road north. There's two big ranches up that way. Pronghorn Ranch and Mister Blake's. It used to be Hangin' Dog Ranch, but some new folk run it now, better than what it once was at least. The fella up there trains horses if you're lookin' for work. I'm sure he'd take ya." He explained.

John chuckled, "I'm not too sure horsemanship suits me very well, but it's a start at least. I don't know where it is, but I'm sure I can find it. I can leave right now if you'd like?"

"It's the Geddes' place. Fine feller. Where's the wagon?"

"It's just outside. I should go tell my wife and then I can come back and get loaded?"

"My boys can load you up while you go find your wife."

"Okay, thank you." John nodded, eager to start his new job for the shopkeeper. He walked from the store with pride coating his face, starting his search for Abigail and Jack at the doctor's office.

"Thank you, doctor!" He heard Abigail say as she and Jack exited the office, the loud squeak of the wooden door being louder than her voice. "Hey! How you gettin' on?"

"I found some work." John shrugged.

"Me too!"

"Delivering goods out to some ranch."

"Cleanin' a doctor's surgery."

John chuckled, "Fine livin'!"

"It is, John, oh it is. This is the way to it."

"I'll take your word on that. Well, what do you suggest now?"

"I'll stay here and get on with the work. You deliver them goods and then collect me."

"Okay." John nodded, beginning to walk back towards the shop to fetch the wagon only to be stopped by Abigail grabbing his arm.

"And John, I love you. Don't you forget that."

"I won't," John smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I love you. You two stay out of trouble now."

"That's far behind us, John Marston!"

John shook his head with a smirk toying at his lips as he began his short trek back towards his wagon, seeing that it was well loaded with plenty of goods to supply the ranch he was heading to. "Now you ride slow now. Geddes don't want his goods damaged." The shopkeeper warned.

"Of course. Thank you." John nodded, taking a deep breath before proceeding to encourage the horse to pull to start his trip to Pronghorn Ranch.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"This must be it." John breathed to himself as he approached the ranch, hidden well into the northern region of West Elizabeth, nestled perfectly between isolation and convenience. It was at that moment John knew that he wanted to build a perfect life for his family, including himself as it felt like Abigail and Jack deserved it the most.

"You Mister Geddes?" John asked, still seated on the bench of the wagon, dropping the reins slightly.

"No, sir. I'm Mister Dickens, his overseer." The stranger replied, burying his hatchet into the next stump he was preparing to split.

"Jim Milton. I'm delivering some supplies from the store in Strawberry." John introduced, now stepping down from the wagon.

"Okay."

"This is quite a place."

"Yes, it's beautiful. There's another ranch just across the river that has the same scenery, but it's more open. Good people. The man of the ranch has trained most of our horses here and crafts some of our leather for our wagons. Good people. You new around here?" Mister Dickens replied, stepping up alongside the wagon to inspect the delivery.

"They send everything?" John asked, cursing at himself for ignoring the man's question, hoping he didn't take it as an offense.

"Yeah, I think so."

"So, partner, you boss... He lookin' for hands?"

"Why? You looking for work?"

"Yeah. My wife - we was in business with her family and... turned sour. It's a long story."

Mister Dickens shook his head, "Yeah, I don't know. Married hands... It's a lot of trouble."

"I'm a good worker. My wife Agatha and our son, Lancelot, we'll all work-"

"Big man around, boy?" A suspicious voice called. John and Mister Dickens turned towards the voices, seeing two outsiders approaching John's wagon, each of their gazes inspecting the goods before them.

"Get the hell outta here." Mister Dickens barked.

The outlaw chuckled, resting his elbow on the rear wheel of the wagon, "Now that ain't very nice."

"And threatenin' us is nice?" Mister Dickens scoffed, he and John now approaching the two men.

"Hey, mind if I enjoy one of these apples?" The second outlaw snickered, taking a bite out of the Granny Smith obnoxiously. "Delicious!"

"When's boss man gonna sell this place, boy?"

"I don't think there's any plans for that." Mister Dickens shrugged.

"You boys want a drink? It's some fine Scotch whiskey." The outlaw snickered.

"Put that down!"

""Put that down!" These supplies for the season?" He mocked, stepping over onto the bench seat of the wagon from the back.

"Get off the farm. I'm tired of dealin' with you!" Mister Dickens barked, storming towards the wagon.

"Come on, we know when we're not wanted!"

"Come back here!" John shouted, seeing the two outlaws urging the horse to canter away, jerking them backward on the wagon during the process. John helped Mister Dickens to his feet as he was knocked down during the steal, leaving the old man breathless.

"You can use that horse, friend." He huffed, pointing to the quiet bay mare, looking as if she were resting during the break of labor.

John nodded at the old man, rushing towards the horse, thankful that the mare was only fourteen hands tall as he knew getting up on a taller horse was getting harder and harder with his age. "Go easy on 'em! We can't have trouble 'round here!" He heard Mister Dickens shout as he nudged for the mare to gallop towards the stampeding wagon.

"That's my damn wagon!" John snarled as he rode the speedy mare alongside the wagon, grimacing at how the outlaws could cackle between each other to celebrate their steal.

"This one's got a stone in his boot!"

"I'm takin' back what's mine!" John shouted, lining the mare up to meet close to the side of the wagon, removing his feet from the stirrups and quickly steadying himself to jump onto the wagon from the mare's back, pulling the driver from the seat by his coat before taking control, disarming the second outlaw by taking his revolver for himself and pushing him off of the moving wagon. "Y'all think twice about who you mess with!"

"Tell Geddes to take that offer off Mister Abel!" The outlaw shouted, clutching his elbow as he motioned for his partner to stumble back to wherever the men came from.

"Ah, thank you!" Mister Dickens sighed, standing up from his seat on the porch with a young man alongside him. At a glance, the young man reminded John of Clay Davies from Clemens Cove. Fortunate for John, he was just another stranger. "Milton, isn't it? Those boys are out of Laramie. Been givin' me and Mister Blake a few headaches over the past year. They work for Mister Abel, but thank you."

"Don't mention it. Listen, I ain't lookin' for no charity or nothin', but I was serious. You got work, we'll work. I can do anything. We got - We got robbed ourselves a few days back."

"We ain't got married hands here. You're married."

"We'll work harder than any one of them. I'm real honest and my wife, even though she's got fancy thoughts, she'll work too." John explained, helping Mister Dickens and the young man carry the heavy crates of produce to the front porch of the main house.

"You seem kinda desperate. What trouble you in?"

"No trouble, sir. Aside from her brother, he tricked us and robbed her of her inheritance. We're good people. We'll work. Even Lancelot."

"What does Mister Geddes need with a boy?" Mister Dickens scoffed. "It's just another mouth to feed."

"Just please give us a chance. I can handle myself okay, you know that already."

"Yeah... Makes me wonder just who would have robbed you. But, we'll give you a chance. I'll let Mister Geddes know when him and his wife return tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mister Dickens. I'll go get my wife." John smiled, reaching out to shake the old man's hand.

"No, you stay here. It's getting late. We'll go get her in Strawberry and we'll bring her here tomorrow. We need you around just in case any more of them Laramie boys turns up. There's a little cabin out yonder past the ranch house. Things work out, y'all can stay there."

"Thank you. You'll not regret this."

"Yep. Go get yourself settled. We'll have work for you tomorrow when Mister Geddes returns. Oh, and uh, that bay mare, you can use her if you don't have a horse. She's a real good mare. Came from Mister Blake. She's a little young and may buck a few times, but once she's not as cold-backed, you'd be smooth sailin'."

"Thank you. This means a lot."

"No problem, son. Go on and get settled in."

'Oh, how the wheel's turnin'...'

[wistfulwisteriawitch]

Arthur Morgan x Lilith Vallent OC: Vas Ura (My One)/ Vas Soluna (My Bonded) Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

I managed to get myself set up, knowing we’d actually be going after John since he was still missing. Attaching the leather over bust corset riddled with knives as well as the leather leg guards I exhaled, it would be interesting to see what they thought of our way of doing things but they seemed rather accepting thus far.

And as we moved to go out, Abigale grabbed my sleeve. “Miss Vallent?”

“Yes Abigale?”

“John…”

“Oh the gentleman that you said was your sons father?”

“Yes…”

Arthur had walked into the room and was warming himself by the fire. “Where’s little John gotten off to?”

“Arthur he hasn’t been seen in a couple days, I fear the worst.”

“John is fine, he gets himself out of scrapes all the time.” Arthur huffed. "Granted he could throw himself on the ground and miss so that's a feat in and of itself."

I cocked a brow, “I’ll go find him.” I pat her arm, “I can track him.”

Arthur groaned, “I’ll go with ya.”

“How kind.” I grinned as I walked by, Hosea nudged me as I sidled by with a smirk and a whispered thank you.

“I’ll come too!” Javier noted. “John would do the same for me and Arthur.”

“Sure, might be good considering the wolves.”

“Wolves?” Javier asked as we mounted up.

I nodded, after ensuring I had everything needed including shotgun with slugs. “Yes, alright you two, flank me, head forward in a V position, and try to keep it unless we head up the mountain, in that case line up.” With that I spurred Luna into a gallop. “Let’s go! Belladonna shadow!”

“Aye Milady!” And with that her horse charged off into the wilderness.

“Shadow?” Arthur inquired as we moved at a quick pace.

“She’ll scout ahead, and send Aristotle if she finds something.”

“And that is—“ A screech above as a Ferrugius Hawk soared past.

“She is skilled in Falconry, her family learned for many years in her home country. Normally their line uses Peregrine, but him...he's been with Belladonna alone, and each member has their own Falcon breed. Birds like that are the largest of hawks to be used for Falconry. And he is quite protective. She found him in Mexico.”

“Ha!” Javier seemed a bit stunned, “you all keep surprising us.”

“We are a surprising people. Javi.” I managed to find John’s trail and exhaled, “fuck he went up the mountain.” Just like the game.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “just like him to have someone dig his ass out of snow.”

I sighed, “Arthur take the middle, Javier take the front, I’ll watch the back.” And with a chiding look as he glanced over his shoulder. “This is what family does.” I noted as we lined up and began to trek up the mountainside, myself taking the end. “Javier do you see where the trail picks up?”

“Yes, he headed up this way.”

“We’ll have to leave the horses.” Arthur noted and I agreed, we got off and began to make our way further along a cliffside. “John!” Javi shouted.

“HELP! DOWN HERE!”

With that I took off, making sure to keep my movements swinging forward to help me trudge through the snow faster. “Mister Marston?” I called finding him on the ledge. “Awe poor puppy.”

“Puppy?! Who in the fuck are you?”

“A friend. Hold the fuck still. We don’t need you bleeding and bringing a bear. Wolves are a pain in the ass enough.” I gathered what I needed from my satchel and made him down a few tonics and salved him up with an antiseptic solution of old mans beard and golden thread. “That will have to do for now, I’ll need to draw any infection out at the cabin. Alright, come on.” I gripped under his arm and hauled him up. “Arthur!”

They were there reaching for him, Arthur laughing, “well now Marston, looks like ya got yer head ate by wolves. How much’a yer brains did they get?”

“Shut up Morgan.”

“You gonna have to come up with a better story for those scars.”

“Getting half eaten by wolves ain’t enough?”

“We got company gentlemen!” I shouted, ”Javier, Arthur— get him to the horses!”

“I got you.” Arthur had one shot down in seconds as the others charged down the slope.”

“BELLA!” A shrill whistle as a large hawk circled over head and dove into the eyes of one of the wolves screeching.

A black streak of horse and woman charged forward from behind us as she leapt off it's back, her body clad in leather padding as she took the tackle of a she-wolf head on while I dodged and sliced a death blow to a jugular. “Come on ya wee bitch!” Bella roared plunging a blade into it’s throat.

Aristotle soared high, blood splattering from his talons and across his feathers as Bella let out a snarl of glee when the final wolf was downed by a blade thunked into it’s throat.

Arthur shot down the final one, sighing and glancing at the two of us. “Remind me never to make her angry.” He mused as Bella ruffled Aristotle’s feathers and set him loose again, “that is a big bird.”

“He’s a beauty inn’e?” Bella asked fluffing her hair out and wiping blood off her face. “We ready?”

“Yes, John how you holding up?” I asked.

“Feel drunk.”

“Good that means it’s working.”

“Oh joy.” Was the sarcastic reply.

We managed to make it down the mountain, Belladonna staying to get the meat and pelts from the wolves.

“She gonna be alright?” Javier asked.

“Worry about the woodland creatures who piss her off.” I laughed.

“Bella?” Belial asked as we rode in, “ah…hunting.” He chuckled and walked off back towards the kitchen area.

Arthur sighed and leaned over to speak to me, “watch the golden boy not get a scolding despite holding up a job.”

Dutch of course was ecstatic John was back and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Siblings?” I asked smiling.

“We both was raised by Dutch and Hosea. They taught us to read.”

“Awe, I can see that.” I smiled wide at him, and he returned with a shy smile back. He gets a bit of a playful look, “you know for someone so small you sure as hell take up a lot of space.” He sniffs and cocks a brow.

“You know for someone so big you can curl up on the edge of a bed real easy. Next time just huggle-up and I won’t have to latch on like a damn possum.”

It was the first time he genuinely laughed. “I’ll remember that little wolf.” He was glancing over my gear and had a look of confusion.

“Leather, protects quite well.”

“What ya goin to war?” He poked my arm guards and outer leg guards as well as the leather corset flicking a knife handle.

“Life is war.” I tilted my head.

“Hmph, ain’t that just bout right.”

As I was about to ask what he meant Belladonna zoomed into camp with furs and blood all over her. “I’m back!” She said prancing off her stallion Bairn.

I chuckled, “welcome back sister.”

“Didja see the pelt on that she-wolf?” She crowed tugging it off her horse, “it’s like ya hair milady, I should make a new cloak and we can trade.”

“I would like that thank you Bella.” She grinned and whistled for Aristotle who landed on her thickly gloved forearm. “There’s a good boy.”

Everyone in camp balked.

“Wah ya never seen’a damn bird afore?” She scoffed. “Come on pretty boy.” She was feeding him strips of wolf, “lessee what ya da is up ta.”

I rolled my eyes. “You get used to her.”

“Body can get used to anything…”

“Even hanging.” I finished and we laughed walking over to Hosea and Dutch.

“Got anymore maidens that need saving?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Hosea chuckled. “Thanks you three.”

“Javier tipped his hat and walked off as Arthur joined me in the cabin where Abigale tended to Marston.

“Alright, lemme work.” I shooed most people away, and grinned. “Marston this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Ya aint gotta look like ya gonna enjoy it!”

Arthur chuckled, “I will.”

“Of course you would.” John muttered.

I forced willow bark tea down his throat, irrigated the wound with stinging solutions of horsetail and once it was cleaned I made a salve and packed it with bandages. “Don’t touch it. You’ll have a mark but congratulations you were chosen to bear them by a powerful creature. In our ways it means you are protected.”

“Sure felt like that when they bit me.”

“They could have killed you.” I said softly. “But they did not. They left. Think upon that. I do not play with coincidence or dice to tell me my fate rather that things happen for a reason.”

John pondered and cracked a slight grin. “Guess so.”

“Either way, get rest, I shall have Bel bring food, you need to gather your strength to heal.”

“Thank you.” Abigale clutched my hand tight and I nodded, “let Jack see his Pa.” I leveled a gaze at John, “I am sure he was quite worried for his father.”

John seemed to squirm under my direct gaze and I softened it before leaving.

“What was that?”

“It seemed there was some tension in regards to little Jack.” I said.

“That obvious?” Arthur huffed an annoyed sound.

“Yes, but Marston is young, he can learn.”

Arthur glanced me up and down, “hm.” Was all he said.

I really wished I could get into his head sometimes.

— - - - - - - - - - - -

Arthur grumbled, “some people learn too late.” And he walked away, his chest heavy with memories long past. “Other’s should be so lucky.”

She caught his hand, “Arthur, despite that lessons can be passed down to prevent more pain.” Her voice is soft, and that damned look she gives him— it’s not pity, he couldn’t stand it if it was but this is somehow worse— she has an air of understanding, an acceptance about her with him as if whatever he lays at her feet is perfectly fine.

“Maybe so.”

That hand retreats, she seems to be thinking as she chews her bottom lip looking at her feet for a moment.

“S-sorry I know I probably—“

“S’fine.” He assured her rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a hang up he and I have had.”

Lilith nodded, “my brother and I had something similar happen.”

“Oh?”

“Yes…but we managed to talk it out.” Arthur lets out a bark of harsh laughter.

“Me and him? Talk? Shoot, ya ain’t known us long but ya gonna see that’s a bit hard for us Van der Linde boys.”

“Oh that’s plain as day Mister Morgan. But as I said, everyone can learn.” A wink as she sauntered off.

“Damn woman.” He grumbles to himself striking a match on his boot to light up a smoke. He couldn’t make heads or tails of her as she checked in with Dutch and asked him several questions, Dutch did seem to be in a better mood, and she was always checking in with him— she said the word was deference. She acknowledged he was leader. But she herself led the two people she had.

Arthur had to admit the way she did things did scream leadership. It was rare to see such things. There wasn’t anything she herself wouldn’t do that she’d ask of others. Mucking a stall, hunting, ensuring people were clothed, mending, healing…Dutch hadn’t done that for a long time but he did get his hands dirty when needed.

It further solidified Arthur’s ideology that if women ran shit it might be a mite better, he glanced at Susan who was chatting with Hosea before she went off to screech at someone for not working hard enough.

Belladonna walked up to him and grinned, offering her hawk, “wanna pet’im, seems ta like ya.”

Arthur was never one to pass up petting an animal.

Shit he’d pet a bear if it wouldn’t rip his damn arm off.

“Sure, Aristotle was it?”

“Mmhm. He had many ideas of the stars that man. Mi’lady said it suited because this hawk could damn near fly to them with these wings.” She kissed the hawk who let out a little chirping sound as Arthur placed a warm finger against it’s chest feathers. The big raptor fluffed his feathers and crooned, leaning forward and nudging Arthur’s hand.

“Here, he likes meat.”

“Here boy.” Aristotle took the piece and gulped it down and flapped his wings before Bella let him go. “He just nests somewhere?”

“Oh aye, he has a mate somewhere, but I canna catch her, she is too fierce. But she hunts with him and has never left his side. They keep the same mates their whole life.” She smiled up at the sky and sure enough, a smaller hawk circled with him swooping and gliding. “Quite a sight.”

“Sure is.” Arthur grinned. “You all keep any other animals?”

“Oh aye, you should see the family wolves.”

Arthur paused as he walked by, “beg pardon?” He furrowed his brow.

“Milady found a pack of wolves who’s cubs were abandoned. She took them all in, they are the sweetest, deadly, but they are the comfiest things to snuggle with. Sometimes all four of them are with her.”

“And these are��.ah…”

“No here. They in the wilds probably hunting, somewhere up north west in the Grizzlies. They look different, no from here. Timber wolves from the west. Darker coats. Then the wolf dogs…all except for Talla—they look like they wolf kin. She is almost a strawberry color but she’s half wolf and half some big dog from Alaska.”

“Been round a lot.”

“Aye, we been all over. The wolves are bout five or so now. Talla and her siblings are with her brothers, she breeds them.”

“Breeds wolves.”

“Just for the family.”

“Ah.” This family got weirder and weirder, “they guard? The wolves not the half breed ones.”

“No no, wolves are quite timid despite people thinking they fierce, unless the family is attacked, they no just go about attacking randomly, Talla and her siblings though, they were bred with a type’a dog that will protect their master anywhere, any time. Talla especially, her mate is a full wolf, but she is far fiercer than he.”

Arthur laughed, “you talk like they people.”

“You talk to yer horse like it’s people.”

She had him there. He kicked at the snow. “Never knew an animal to dislike it.”

Belladonna grinned, “you ken for a scary bastard, ye pretty nice.”

“Don’t know nuthin bout that.” Arthur snorted as he walked off.

Dinner was a lighter affair now that John was back, everyone celebrated with some whiskey and a meal of wolf steaks and deer meat. Arthur watched as everyone milled around, chatted, and tried to liven their spirits, the deaths of ones close still loomed— as did the damn frost.

Some spring this turned out to be.

He glanced at the three strangers who had dropped into their lives as he scribbled.

It is rather strange to be in the company of wolves.

I find that they are a gentle people unless provoked, despite their appearances, the females are far more aggressive then their male counterparts, as Belial seems to have a very playful nature, they all do in fact. Shoving at one another as they walk in the snow to push the other into a drift. Or leaping onto one another’s backs as they run off.

I have only seen wolves play once, when I came across a den by accident when the welping season came. Indulgent and confident in my spot I had used binoculars to watch a game of tag played by the pack. It is of similar air.

Hosea is doing alright, but I know the dark haired woman named Lilith is concerned, he is coughing a lot, and his breathing is labored, he stays indoors mostly under her direction, and she’s been shoving tonics into his mouth whenever he allows it. Seeming hell bent on keeping him alive.

John is alright, a pain in my backside still, but he’s lucky to be alive. … We all are.

Not sure what in hell happened on that boat, but whatever it was it weren’t good. Charles heard that a girl died. Dutch outright shot her…saying it needed to be done….

That ain’t like him…

The red head reminds me of Sean, I wonder where that Irish bastard got off to. Knowing him he’s probably found trouble. Davey…Jenny….Both gone in a matter of weeks….We lost folks before but not like this— so needlessly. They are calling it the Blackwater Massacre.

This family is strange, stranger still is the kindness they show everyone. It is gentle, despite their steel hard spines and unwavering eyes…unnerving eyes.

Eyes that gleam when they look at ya, like a beast’s catching firelight in the dark.

She looked at Micah as if he were nothing but an ant to be pitied for facing a mountain.

Wonder what that’s like….ain’t never said I was confident, I can fight with the best of em…

But I have a feeling this woman could give me a run for my money…

Half inclined to piss her off and find out…

[dastardlydutchvanderlinde]

Hi there! I absolutely love your stories! If you’re accepting requests, would you write a little something about Dutch and Hosea on a bank robbery together? Bonus points if everything goes completely according to plan!

I’m so sorry this took me SO long to do, been having a hard time writing stuff I like but hope you enjoy!

The sun was high in the sky by the time theyarrived in the beat up town of Rose Creek. The heat had everyone disappearinginto the shade of the lone saloon, a quiet peace descending on the otherwisehectic mining town. 

At the far end of the town, four horses could beseen kicking up the dust, and riding them were four men new to the area

The Count and Silver Dollar were sweating, muscles quivering as fliesdrew towards the moisture, their tails and ears flicking in annoyance. Behindthem, Old Boy and Boadicea snorted their own displeasure, the sounds of leathersnapping as the boys tried to keep control of the reins. 

“Don’t let those horses know you’re nervous. They’ll play up.” Hoseamuttered, glancing back and straightening in his saddle.

John frowned in concentration, and Arthur squared his shoulders,claiming he wasn’t nervous. 

“Keep cool and stick to the plan. Trust us.” Dutch says with a finalitythat held no room for argument. 

This was the first time they’d taken the boys with them on a job thisbig. Not that the town of Rose Creek was anything special, but so far they’donly done stagecoach and train robberies in the middle of nowhere. Here? Herethey were taking money under the law’s nose, the noose swinging empty at the otherend of the street. There was only so much room for error here, and by the waythe boys were sweating they knew about it. 

The plan was simple enough. Hit the bank quiet at high noon and get outbefore anyone started screaming. The haze of the midday sun would be theircover, John and Arthur the goons on the door, and Dutch and Hosea working toempty the poor rich folk’s investments into their dirty saddlebags. 

Hosea grinned, turning in his saddle to wink at the boys as they pulledup down the side of the bank. 

They barely smiled in return, all nervous energy and quick glances.

“Ready?” Dutch asked them all, making a point to receive confirmationfrom each of them in turn. 

When he looked at Hosea, dark eyes searching for reassurance, Hoseanodded and drew up his bandana. “Ready. Keep your heads boys, don’t panic.Listen, breathe, we’ll be fine.” 

It wasn’t just a speech for the jittery John and Arthur, it was forDutch too. Hosea had seen too many jobs go south when Dutch lost his path.Sure, hadn’t happened much since they’d figured out how to work smoothlytogether years ago, but the memories of needless violence and close shaves werestill sharp in his mind. He needed to be reminded sometimes, that thiswasn’t Dutch versus Old Sam all on his own. They were a team, and they were workingtowards something bigger than themselves.

Dutch grunts, and slips from his horse. 

They leave the horses standing in order, angled to bolt out towards theback of the bank and across the plains towards the mountains. They wouldn’tmove, and with The Count and Old Boy boxing in Silver Dollar and Boadicea,there was no risk of any random stranger stealing them. 

“We go in together, guns up. We want this quiet. Arthur, I want you tokeep everyone in line while John gets them gagged and tied. Once me and Hoseaare finished, we lock ‘em in the vault and get the hell outta here. On three.”Dutch says, taking control with a practiced ease. 

They get to the edge of the building, and Dutch holds up threefingers. 

“Why we gotta tie these poor folks up?” John asks, and gets an elbow tohis ribs from Arthur.

Hosea shook his head. Now was not the time to start questioning theplan, it was too late, already in motion.

The countdown begins, and then they’re rushing the door, quick andquiet. 

Dutch bursts through the doors like he’d been there a hundred timesbefore, confident and cocksure. Everything about him screams arrogance, fromthe way his hips sway to the lazy readying of his guns. Hosea has to be carefulnot to get distracted.

“Ladies and gentlemen! This is a robbery, keep your hands up and no oneneeds to get hurt.” Dutch yells out once they’re inside, Arthur blocking thedoors behind them and John cocking his guns. 

Hosea has seconds to analyse the room, and noticed with a racing heartthere were more people present than they’d first accounted for. 

It was seven against four, and John didn’t exactly lookthreatening. 

A man standing closest to Dutch begins to hold his hands up, but Hoseacan see him eyeing up Dutch’s gun. 

It’s too late to warn him, and Dutch is busy scanning the room andchecking John and Arthur weren’t about to get shot. 

It would go one of two ways. Dutch would notice, and kill him, or Dutchwould notice too late and get killed. 

The man lunges, and gets a bullet buried in his skull. 

“Shit!” Dutch growls, and the room erupted into screaming. 

John had frozen, and Arthur frantically kept the remaining people fromstorming out. 

“Jesus Christ, Dutch. Some example we’re setting!” Hosea snarls, roundingthe clerk desk and hopping over the barrier meant to keep customers out. Hesnatched the vault key from under the counter, Dutch moving to catch up. 

He looks pissed off, blood spattered up his chest. “It’s goodexperience, hurry up! The law would have heard the gunshot, won’t take themlong to get up off their asses to investigate.”

“We’re close to the saloon, might head there first.” Arthur suggests,even as his eyes are wide and his hands are shaking. He doesn’t want todisappoint them, doing his best to keep a level head. 

Dutch nods, clapping Arthur’s shoulder as John sweeps throughrestraining the remaining people. “Good thinkin’ my boy. Go stand outside andif they come let them know there’s a ruckus in the saloon. John, keep thesepeople still and quiet while we work.”

The boys both get to work, though Arthur almost falters at the prospectof being alone outside. But, he squares his shoulders and holsters his guns,slipping outside to lean casually against the front rail, starting tosmoke. 

Dutch checks over their hostages one last time, and then followsHosea. 

Inside the vault, is enough gold to last them til next winter. 

Dutch whistled. “My my. The good people of Rose Creek have such fatpockets.” 

“Not for long. Come on, we need to get out of here fast after that messyou made.” Hosea says, moving to the closest tray of valuables. 

“What was I supposed to do, let him shoot me with my own gun?” Dutchasked, heading for the biggest pile of gold he could see. 

Hosea sighs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just would have been nice to show theboys things can be done without violence.”

“Violence is a necessary sin sometimes.” Dutch says, cramming the saddlebag full of gold. He’s already got one stuffed, slinging it over one shoulderas he starts on the second. “You know that as well as I do.”

“I just-“ Hosea pauses, holding a gold cross on a chain between hisfingers. “I just want these boys to do better than us. Live a better life.”

Dutch hums, shouldering the second saddle bag and slipping a few extradollars he can see into his pockets. “I know, Hosea. I do too but we can’t findthem liberty, freedom, independence without money these days. Half of thiswe’ll put away, into savings. One day, when we got enough, we’ll go further outwest than any of us have ever been, and we’ll start a ranch. A good, honestranch. Then those boys will know liberty, a life free from violence andcruelty. The poor gentlemen outside, he stood in the way of that.” 

“I know. I know, Dutch I’m just worried is all.” Hosea says, finishingup his first saddle bag. 

Dutch comes up behind him, helping load up the next bag. “Can we saveyour philosophical worrying until after we’ve robbed this bank?”

“If we must. I got this, go check on the boys.” Hosea suggests, swattingDutch’s interfering hand out of his way. 

Dutch does as he was asked, exiting the vault to the main part of thebank. 

He was pleased to see John with his rifle still raised out of sight, andArthur leaning comfortably against the rail through the window. Every hostagewas gagged and tied, excluding the unfortunate accident. 

“How’re we doin’?” John asks, jerking his head to where Hosea was stillworking. 

Dutch nods, patting the bags over his shoulder. “Pretty good take. Holdthese while we get these fine folks into a safe place.”

He hands over the bags, swapping them for a silently weepingwoman. 

“Ain’t that safe if the likes of us can get in it.” John mutters asDutch heads back to the vault. 

It’s a good point, but it will keep them quiet for a while longer as thefour of them make their getaway run. 

“Keep an eye out for Arthur, make sure the law don’t turn on him.” Dutchshouts over his shoulder as he deposits the first woman into the vault. 

Hosea has just finished with packing the bags, and he leans slightly tothe left with the weight of it. 

“Alright, that’s as much as we can carry.” Hosea says, moving to followin Dutch’s footsteps. 

The process goes rather smoothly, with John standing under the weight oftheir loot as Dutch and Hosea take it in turns to move all their hostages intothe vault. They even move the dead man, only a minor stain on the floor and abullet lodged in the wall behind him. 

It’s not the quickest work, but apparently the law here aren’t thespeedy respondents they had first feared. 

Before long, the vault is locked back up with the key awaiting rescue onthe desk. 

“Can we get outta here now? My back is killing.” John complained,handing off the saddlebags to Dutch and Hosea. 

Hosea laughed. “Oh, your back is hurting? You’re still a child you don’tknow what back pain is yet.” 

“Like you’re such an old man.” Dutch says with a grin. 

Exiting the bank, Arthur joins them within a split second. 

“We gotta go right now.” He says, trying to herd them all along. 

Hosea frowns, and behind him Dutch opens his mouth to speak. 

“Hey!”

Four pairs of eyes look to the saloon, and three lawmen are starting tohead towards them. 

“Shit, there goes the smooth exit.” Dutch growls. “Let’s go!”

They move like lightening, exploding into action and running back acrossthe dusty wooden floor and skidding around the corner. The horses jerk theirheads against the reins in surprise, but they aren’t given much time to realisewho was heading right for them. 

Hosea is the first up onto Silver Dollar, the fastest of the four. ThenArthur, and John, and finally Dutch. He was always the last to ride, preferringto make sure everyone else kept safe and in sight on a getaway dash. 

“Keep up boys, don’t look back.” Dutch hollered as Hosea took off at agallop. 

Arthur went to look behind him, to check Dutch was following, but caughthimself at the last second. He kicked his legs, and Boadicea snorted as sheran. 

Old Boy took longer to get going, but The Count nipping at his hauncheshad him picking up the pace. 

A gunshot went off, the dust to the left of Hosea kicking up in a sprayof movement. 

“Faster! Head to the forest!” Dutch yelled, spurring The Count. 

Hooves thundered against the dry plains, the four of them streakingacross the grass like their lives depended on it. No-one looked back, if youlooked back you’d slow, and if you slowed you were a dead man. 

Shouting grew quieter as they got closer to the rich green of themountainside forest, the echoing roar of hoof beats silenced as the hardterrain gave way to softer ground. 

They kept riding, even as the voices behind them turned into nothing buta memory, they kept riding. 

Dusk was just beginning to fall when Hosea pulls Silver Dollar to ahalt, turning him on the spot. 

“Think we’re clear?” Hosea asked, adjusting in the saddle. 

Dutch stops next to him, leaning forwards on the pommel and panting alittle from the hard riding. “I’d say so. For now, we want to keep our headsdown. Arthur especially, those lawmen got a good look at him while we weretrying to get out quiet.”

There’s a huff of acknowledgement from Arthur. “Shouldn’t have wastedtime moving them folk over into the vault. Would have been clear before that.”

“It was unfortunate.” Dutch says slowly, moving to take the lead now thedanger was passed. “But, the plan was to make as little noise as possible, totry and break free without anyone giving chase. We leave those townsfolk freeto wriggle around and they’ll free each other and start hollering.”

“Made noise the second we got in there!” John jumped in, waving a handin exasperation as they moved through the forest. 

Hosea just looked at Dutch. 

Dutch had the decency to look sheepish. “I didn’t go in with theintention of killing no-one, but it was him or me. I think things went prettywell, considering.” 

“A perfect example of how quickly things go wrong.” Hosea said.

Dutch huffed a laugh, and shrugged. “Well, there is that.”

“Perhaps next time we can keep our guns in their holsters.” Hosea says,shaking his head. There was always violence where Dutch was involved; it seemedto follow him around like a black cloud. No matter how hard they tried to avoidit, Dutch would cause chaos and terror in his wake. 

Hosea couldn’t decide if it would be their downfall or theirtriumph. 

“Alright. Split up and head back to camp. Take a bag each and keep outof trouble. We’ll see you in a few days.” Dutch says to the grumbling boys. “Treatyourselves to somethin’.”

The boys only complained under their breath for a few seconds longer,the prospect of buying a nice new gun soothing their ruffled feathers. Theyeach turn in different directions, until there’s nothing but the faint soundsof hoof beats to suggest they were ever there.

“Now, I believe you were in the middle of a long monologue about usbeing better men?” Dutch says, that sly handsome grin spreading across hisface.

Hosea laughs, moving them off east. “I believe I was.”

 They weren’t perfect, but by God did they have dreams.