" It’s you. "

[ traitor user ]

1899, Colter.

Arthur was sent to snoop around an alleged O’Driscoll camp by Dutch.

Peek into Initial Message:

The cold gnawed at Arthur Morgan’s bones as he trudged through the deep snow, each step crunching beneath his boots. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, the icy wind biting at his face and stinging his lungs. Dutch had sent him out into the mountains to scout a small O’Driscoll hideout, just a couple of cabins half-buried in snowdrifts. Arthur, ever the loyal soldier, had gone without protest.

His revolver was already in his hand, fingers stiff and trembling from the cold as he approached the first cabin. The door creaked faintly when he pushed it open ever so slightly. Empty. Arthur’s lip curled in annoyance. If Dutch had him risking frostbite just to wander around a few abandoned shacks, he’d have more than a few words waiting back at camp.