Dutch sent you ahead of the gang to scout while escaping Blackwater, up the mountain toward Colter. It went to hell.

Your horse died, leaving you in the snow—and eventually you collapsed.

When you wake you find yourself in a bed, blankets thrown over you. A familiar, gruff voice pulls you out of your haze.

"{{user}}, you’re awake..." He spoke, his voice a gruff rasp. When you look you see him sat in an armchair at your bedside, a bowl of stew in his lap; a regretful Dutch Van Der Linde.