The Persecution of a Forlorn Face

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"Shit indeed.." was all Arthur could muster in response. With reins now safely equipped in both hands, he guided the horse away from the bloody remnants.

He gave it a soothing pat to the side of the neck before he observed sympathetically, "Poor bastard..... This ain't the first shitshow involving wolves he's been in." John's likeness flashed in his mind, with scars and all.

Perhaps trying to maintain a lighthearted atmosphere, Anne jokingly commented, "They must think he looks like a chicken leg." Now that the previous danger was gone, her deathlike grip on Arthur had subsided.

Arthur wheezed a little at the remark, most likely in an attempt to aid her efforts toward a calmer mood.

"Personally, I would think more along the lines of a steak." He corrected.

At the mention of food, the concave feeling in Arthur's stomach began to grow more noticeable. Almost overwhelmingly so, and he could only imagine how starving Anne must've felt.

With this in mind, Arthur twisted his head in her direction and asked, "You hungry?"

A grin cracked her face as she said, "I thought you'd never ask."

"Ah, well... Consider your suffering to be over.." he paused and let the phrase dangle in the air for a minute second before adding reassuringly, "I'll see if I can find us somethin' to eat."

To the untrained eye, the snowy landscape didn't look very promising food wise. But this wasn't Arthur's first 'rodeo' when it came to hunting, as he had to do it quite often to keep the camp fed now, and he was sure to find a rabbit or two concealed beneath the cold and wintry blanket of snow that cloaked the ground beneath them.

They continued a ways looking for some level ground to settle on before they both slid off the horse's back, simultaneously relieving him if their weight and setting him free to curiously sniff a tree branch.

As Arthur focused his attention on lighting a flame to a pile of twigs, Anne trudged in his direction and plopped down across from him.

It was several moments before he noticed her staring at him intensely.


He furled his eyebrows in question, wondering inwardly if there was something in his face, "What?"

"Can I come?"

"Hunting?" Arthur grunted incredulously. He couldn't quite fathom why she would want to. It wasn't exactly the most glorious activity, and it required a lot of concentration. He couldn't have her messing it up.

He shook his head, "I reckon you've seen enough action for now..." he continued his statement, "You just hang back. I'll get a fire started and you sit tight while I see what I can do regarding food."

He made his way to his horse only to be interrupted halfway by a loud sigh. Despite all efforts to not turn back, Arthur caved and rotated his head at the sound along with the obvious perpetrator.

She was wearing a rather forlorn expression and peering at the fire as the frown upon her face deepened ever further.

Arthur finally yielded to the persistent look of sorrow she kept throwing at the fire as if it had personally disappointed her. "Alright... You can come..." he added a peeved "Goddammit" afterwards mostly to himself. It seemed he was always getting himself dragged into situations he would much rather avoid dealing with. He really was life's playtoy.

He reached for the bow hanging at the side of his saddle and began on his never ending trudge to find food. Anne made noisy footsteps behind him as she crunched in the snow. He surely hoped that the game were hard of hearing, or they wouldn't be eating much today.

He abruptly stopped, making Anne bump into him. He lifted a finger to his lips as he observed curious tracks in the snow. His best guess: rabbits. Only time would tell though, and he carried on with his search, now trailing the paw prints closely.

It seemed several minutes before something caught his attention. The wiggle of two pointed ears. That was definitely a sign. And the fact that the ears were attached to none other than a pure white hare.

Arthur eased into more of a crouch as he urged Anne to do the same quietly. His attention now pinpointed on the hare, he slowly stretched out the arrow on the bow, aligning it towards the target, and let it whistle from his fingertips.

An immediate yelp of pain signaled his success and he crossed over the snowy ground to their next dinner.

It was moderately sized and would definitely do for a decent meal for the two of them. He leaned over to pick it up when Anne popped a question, "Can you teach me to do that?" Arthur looked at her as he leaned back up. Eagerness seeped from the edges of her visage.

Sure he could say no, but he doubted the fire would ever escape the persecution of her pouting face if he did. "Alright." He did this only for the fire's sake. Of course.

With a wave of his hand, they resumed their search. He could've swore that even her footsteps sounded more eager now as they went.

Thankfully, this trip lasted much shorter than before as they saw another pair of ears waggling ahead. Luck was on his side for once. A doubtful expression creased his face as he considered how he was going to handle this.

"You got that bow ready?" He breathed.
A befuddled look from Anne as she fumbled with it for a moment. "I think.."

With an amused sigh, Arthur straightened and fixed her hold on the bow. "Now concentrate on your target. Pull back the string, like this.... And aim when you're ready." His breathy instructions floated between them as she turned her concentration on the bow and animal in view.

The familiar whistle of an arrow and thunk as it found its victim.

With an excited squeal, Anne pranced over to the unfortunate rabbit to check her work. Arthur made unhurried steps behind her.

When he finally made his way to both, he gave the rabbit a quick look over. It had the many telltale signs of death as it layed in the frosty snow with glazed eyes.

With an impressed look, he commented, "What'd'ya know.. You did pretty alright for your first time!"

Anne practically beamed at the statement and Arthur glanced back at the critter. "Can't say the same for the rabbit though.." he added with playful tone.

Anne gingerly picked up the small form by the feet, her expression now more curious as she examined it.

They then began their journey back to camp, rabbits in hand.

RDR2: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒔Where stories live. Discover now