Chapter Text
His hand quickly fixed his hat and snapped Boadicea's reins, trying to avoid prickly trees that seemed worse than the bullets flying past him.
Arthur Morgan should've known shooting several men out in public would cost him his newly found dignity in Mexico, but he didn't know it would be this bad. He had already done all the quick shortcuts he knew that usually made the lawmen and bounty hunters lose his trail. None of them were successful this time, as the Mexican law 𝘢𝘯𝘥 Banditos chased him. Fuck knows how that's possible.
Arthur felt instant relief the second he crossed the border, his grip on the reins lessening a little as a few men stopped right at the edge of the bridge. Arthur quickly shot the remaining stranglers, movement natural but unusually shaky.
Boadicea did most of the work after that, Arthurs senses slowly disengaging. Was he going mad? If he was, he wouldn't still be on his horse riding through the dry and deserted terrain with ease.
𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘥.
If Arthur was in heaven, which he was sure wasn’t possible, then the angel looking down at him was the prettiest thing God had ever sent him.
Sabina dragged herself outside, ignoring the blistering ache in her feet in her boots. Mierda, she was never running outside again. That promise came quite easy with her.
Her hat hung low, hiding her bronze-coloured face from the sun. She had the feeling it would be a very uneventful day, as usual.
She glanced over at the horizon, trying to come up with something she could do that could ease her boredom. This made her wander about, the land and her boots already familiar with each other.
Her mind was off somewhere, wishing she was home, where Americas loneliness wasn't bleeding her out. She kicked a small rock that was in her way, which was followed by the familiar noise of a horse. She looked up as the sound grew louder. 𝘏𝘪𝘫𝘰 𝘥𝘦-
𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘥.