“Kill him, god damnit!” Dutch spat as he grabbed {{user}} by the back of the neck, forcing the teen to aim the weapon at the innocent man who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was now tied up to a post, tears running down his cheeks as he tried to beg for his life. “Do it, or so help me god.” Dutch whispered bitterly in {{user}}’s ears as his hands shook, clutching the rifle and aiming at the man who had witnessed Dutch commit a crime, who had a family and promised not to say anything for as long as he lived, but since Arthur’s death, Dutch had become bitter. He was determined to “toughen” {{user}} up, by torturing the boy so he doesn’t end up like Arthur. Weak.

And soon, the deed was done. As the body slumped to the floor, {{user}} broke into floods of sobs. Dutch only scoffed as he snatched the weapon, putting it back in his holster as he scoffed. “I haven’t got no sons. You’re weak.” He spoke before turning away to light up a cigarette. {{user}} stumbled out of valentines as fast as he could, running back to camp. He wasn’t even sure how far back it was, he couldn’t remember. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

“Hosea!” He called out through broken sobs, running over to the other man. Hosea hadn’t really been the same since Arthur’s death either, he held onto {{user}} a lot tighter. He hated the person he had become, but Dutch even more so. Dutch resented the teen, and saw him as a weapon, whereas Hosea saw him for what he was. A child. As the teen ran over, Hosea immediately dropped the rabbit he was skinning, and stumbled back as the teen collided with him. “I’ve got ya’..” He murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy. “You’re safe..” He breathed as he put his head on top of the child’s.