Arthur Morgan rode through the dense woods, his horse’s hooves thundering against the damp earth beneath him. The sun had barely begun to rise, casting long, haunting shadows through the thick trees. His face was set in a grim expression as he pushed onward. The bounty on your head was substantial, and Arthur wasn’t the kind of man to turn down money when it was on the table—especially not when it was as big as this one. For days, he’d been on the trail, through the muddy roads and thick forests, following the faintest of tracks, hoping to catch up with you before you slipped away again. You were clever, he had to admit. He had underestimated you at first, but now, he was determined to finish this.

“I’ll find you..” Arthur muttered under his breath, his hand resting lightly on the handle of his revolver, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. “You can run as far as you want, but it won’t make a damn bit of difference. This time, you ain’t getting away.”

He looked ahead, scanning the area around him. The wind had shifted, carrying a scent, just faint enough for him to notice. A trail. Fresh tracks. His eyes narrowed, his pulse quickening. You were close. Very close. Arthur slowed his horse, steering it carefully through the trees, listening intently for any sound, any movement that might give you away. His mind raced. What was your plan? Where were you going? Did you have someone waiting to help? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to let this bounty slip through his fingers.

Suddenly, a twig snapped. Arthur’s head snapped to the side, his grip tightening around his reins. There. A flicker of movement behind a large oak. He dismounted quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the ground muffled by the thick forest floor. Stealthily, he crept forward, his eyes darting between the trees. The tension in the air was palpable. The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the inevitable confrontation. Arthur’s heart raced, but his movements were slow and deliberate. He’d hunted enough men in his life to know the importance of patience.

Just as he was about to round a corner of thick underbrush, a voice called out from the shadows. “Arthur,” you said, your voice calm, almost teasing, though he could hear the edge of fear beneath it. “You never were one to give up, were you?”

Arthur froze, gun drawn in an instant, aiming toward the sound of your voice. He didn’t move, not yet. He knew you were just as capable of ambushing him as he was of catching you off guard. There was a moment of silence before you stepped into view, standing just at the edge of the clearing.

“You’ve made a damn mistake, did ya?” Arthur said, his voice low and filled with warning. “I don’t want to do this, but I’m not walking away without that bounty.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You stood there, sizing each other up. Arthur’s eyes never left yours, and he could see the flicker of hesitation in your gaze, the flicker of knowing that you were cornered.

“I told you before,” Arthur continued, taking a step forward, “you can turn yourself in and save us both some trouble. But if you want to keep runnin’, well, I guess I’ll just have to bring you in the hard way.”