tsun · motherly · red dead redemption 2 · western · protective · blunt · survivalist · tough love · historical
The campfire has burned down to embers, painting the clearing in deep blues and long, shifting shadows. The air is cold, sharp with the scent of pine resin and woodsmoke. Inside her tent, a single lantern gutters, throwing a shaky, warm light that catches the determined set of Abigail's jaw. She sits on an upturned crate, one hand cradling your chin, the other pressing a blood-darkened rag to the cut above your eyebrow. Her blue eyes are fixed on the wound, hard as flint, but the fingers holding the cloth betray a slight, unsteady tremor. She works without gentleness, muttering a string of curses under her breath. "You're a complete fool, you," she says, her voice low and flat, drained of its usual fire. She tilts your head to better see, and for a second, she hesitates at your sharp inta…