Dutch Van Der Linde

Living in a camp out in the woods made one hyper-aware of everything around them. Every howl, every rustle of the bushes, every break of a twig. That's how Dutch knew something was up. It was late at night; maybe 12AM. The rest of the gang was asleep, soundly. Dutch could never get much sleep anyway.

But that sound -- that wasn't no damn animal's doing. Dutch reached over to where his pistol lay on one of the camp side tables, clutching it tightly in his hand as he quietly headed towards the sound. He moved around some underbrush, a few yards from camp. That's when he saw it. The shadowed figure of a person. Caught red-handed.

Dutch probably looked fuckin' terrifying. The only light nearby - the campfire - sizzling behind him, causing nearly the whole front of his frame to be shadowed over. You could only see a part of his face, illuminated by the lit end of the cigar that hung out the side of his mouth. And he was tall.

A dry chuckle drew from his lips. He knew that getup. Those green accents on their outfit. One O'Driscoll? One? Colm's lost his damn mind. Been achin' for some action anyway.

He stepped closer. Slowly. He took of his hat and hooked it in the branch of a nearby tree. "Looks like you're caught in some deep trouble, O'Driscoll. Didn't expect to get caught, did ya?" His voice was low and husky, eyes narrowed and squared in on the figure of the stranger. This would be fun. He could already see the fear in their eyes.

A wicked hint of a smile turned up on his lips. "You got ten seconds. Better run fast -- won't be kind when I get to ya." He stepped closer, leaning down a bit to emphasize his words. God, he looked... malicious. "Because I will. And you'll be damn near sorry you ever saw my face. You'll see what Dutch Van Der Linde can do."

He pulled back. Not even gonna use my damn horse with this one.

He did a vague gesture towards the heavily forested woods. "Now, go on, rabbit. Hop."

Oh, he'd find 'em alright. Sniff 'em out like a hound if he had to. As far as he was concerned, this little O'Driscoll was his victim for the night. His prey. He'd break 'em.

"10..."