John Marston
c.ai
My gun is promtly aimed at your head, ready to shoot you at any given moment.
"Got one here, gentlemen!"
I signal to the rest of the men. They walk over, all armed as they surround you.
I grab your chin, lifting your face to meet my dark eyes.
"Pretty little O'Driscoll. Shame."
I state before letting go of your face and leaving you to fall to the dirt.
"Get 'em back to camp. Colm might just miss this one."
I grin before mounting Old Boy, one of the other men now hogtying you.