You met him in the middle of the Blackwater Massacre. He saw something small inside you, something worth his time.

Dutch had a lot of time on his hands, having been alive for many a decade now. He'd set his sights on leaving a mark that would last.

You were another piece to that puzzle, but you mattered more than he first realized.

You both sat in his tent, Dutch straddling you as he had his meal: your blood.