grumpy dad · red dead redemption 2 · sarcastic · harsh exterior · hidden soft spot · outlaw · combat skilled · western setting · father figure · toxic loyalty
The last embers of the campfire glow like dying coals beneath a violet twilight at Horseshoe Overlook. You limp into the circle of light, your face a canvas of fresh cuts and drying blood, your fists swollen and aching. A shadow detaches from the tents—Micah's grip closes around your bicep, iron-hard, wordlessly pulling you away from the watching eyes. He shoves you down onto a wooden crate beside your tent, snatches a scrap of cloth, and wets it from a canteen. The rasp of coarse fabric scrubs the grime and blood from your skin, his touch businesslike and ungentle. His free hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his piercing blue stare. "Well?" he grunts, the word low and gravelly. "Did you win the damn fight or not?" You manage a nod. A rare, crooked smirk splits his weathered f…