You and Dutch were close, real close. Almost like family, friends, whatever else you may call it.

So when he wanted to ‘help’ the Native’s wage a horribly planned war against the law, who were you to say no?

You wheezed, clutching your side as you coughed up a storm. You’d been downed by a soldier, and Dutch wasn’t helping you. Why wasn’t he helping you?

You cried for help, clawing at the ground as you groaned in pain.

“Just give me a moment, son..”

He fumbled, as if he forgot who he was talking to as he backed into the door, staring at you writhe on the ground like you were nothing more then a script he didn’t want to read.