Wild West, Bounty Hunting and Arthur Morgan.

Elizabeth Sanchez.

The great Sanchez bounty hunter was feared by most in the wild west. A woman of such cold vigour was going to attract attention, not always good. She refused to wear dresses, carried more guns than a weapons locker and never smiled. 

If it wasn't the men that feared her then other bounty hunters didn't dare step in her way. Most gave up their hunt just to let Elizabeth take it for herself. She had enough money to live happily, but it was her past that turned her into the ruthless killer she was today.

The day was cold in the sheep herding town called Valentine, she hated the cold. It stopped her from her work and let the hunted get more distance between themselves and her, the hunter. She rested in the sheriff's offices, having taken the deputy seat to lay her legs on his desk and laid back with her hat covering her eyes. The door swung up, she barely moved to the sound.

"Get your hands off me," the newest criminal shouted as he was dragged through the main office towards the cells in the back. The Sheriff threw him in and slammed the metal gated door behind him.

"Have fun in there, partner," he scoffed. The deputy was sitting quietly on a chair in the corner, not daring to move Elizabeth, he rolled his eyes at the silent deputy and looked at the resting woman. "Well, Elizabeth, it seems your back. Have any trouble with your bounty?"

Elizabeth pulled her hat back, her grey eyes narrowing at the sheriff to judge why he would ask such a silly question. "Well, saying I am here, I wouldn't say so." The sheriff grunted and sat at his own desk, digging out the newest wanted bounty.

"Here," he said, throwing the piece of paper towards her. She caught it between her index and middle finger, not needing to see it flying towards her. She opened it up and read the bounty poster. "Arthur Morgan is wanted by just about every sheriff between here and Tumbleweed. He and his goons were the ones who caused all that trouble in Blackwater a few weeks back and had a shoot out here just days ago."

"Arthur Morgan doesn't lead those men," she corrects him. "That would be Dutch Van Der Linde. It's his gang, Arthur is his right-hand man." Elizabeth looked closely at the picture, she couldn't lie to say the man was handsome but still dangerous. She took close detail of his hat, it was a discontinued brand and had rope wrapped around the top, probably to keep it together. That would make it easier to find him. 

"Right," the sheriff drawled as he pulled a cigarette out and lit it. "We need him, preferably alive. If you can get him, Van Der Linde won't be far behind to come rescue him. Do what you need, they were last seen heading out from Horseshoe Overlook, it seemed the Pinkertons were also chasing them."

With a curt note, she left the sheriff's office, she whistled for her buckskin Shire Epona to come to her. The ten-year-old mare was the closest thing she could call family, her strong legs had carried her far and wide for many years. "Good girl," she muttered, feeding her some hay. She checked her saddle and bridle before climbing up and getting the horse into a steady trot.

The ride to Horseshoe Overlook only took fifteen minutes, as the treeline thinned out, she jumped down from Epona and grabbed her Lancaster rifle and bolt action shotgun. keeping one in her hand as she hovered over her pistol as she slowly crept through the ragged ground. Sticks snapped under her boots, she kept low but the smell of worn-out firewood and old food gave evidence there was no one around. Standing up and strapping her rifle to her shoulder she started to look around. The ground was hard, pushed in from multiple shoes and horses walking over it. She found some horse dung on the floor, she poked it with a stick, it was somewhat fresh with the outer edges turning hard. "They went south," she muttered to herself.

The horse tracks gave it away, but also the way the wind carried scent of food, horses and smelly men, she shivered to herself. The evening was coming closer, she needed to hunt a rabbit or something small for dinner.

She whistled Epona over and climbed up, kicking the horse into a canter to get some distance covered before calling it a night. She thought Rhodes would be the best option to try, runaway outlaws came through the town regularly.

---

After two hours of riding, night had finally fallen. Elizabeth had hunted a small grey-tailed rabbit and was looking for a good spot by the flowing river to set up camp. But Epona flared her nostrils in the air as the sound of a gunshot sounded just a few meters in front of her. She jumped down and got out her dual pistols, she just hoped she didn't have to use them.

"Give me the fucking money," a man shouted. He held a shotgun to a young man's head. He was cowered over, Elizabeth could only see his greasy, shoulder length black hair.

"Fuck you," he squeaked in reply. The man had the voice of a broken squeal, deep but shallow at the same time. She hugged herself behind a rock, lining up her pistol to the man with the shotgun.

"I ain't asking ag-" The man's head exploded, blood pouring over the cowering man. There was only one man left to kill. Elizabeth came out of cover and threw a rock at the man's head, disorienting him as she tackled him to the ground. Lining her pistol up under his chin, she pulled the trigger, the bullet flew out from above his scalp.

"You alright?" she asked as she looted both men, just because she helped the police find criminals didn't mean she wouldn't take advantage of something a dead man didn't need anymore. Finding some snake oil, loose change and bullets she called in successful and put them in her stachel.

"Yeah, thanks for the help," the man replied as she got up. She finally looked at him, the man was young, twenty five maybe. He wore old ragged clothes and had a scar from what looked like a wolf's claw down his noise, part of his right cheek and chin. 

"No problem, what did they want with you?" she asked as she lit up a cigarette and leant against the tree stump. The man seemed taken aback by her calm stance, something that wasn't expected by a lady.

"Bastards wanted my money, what little I had. Names Jim Milton, nice seeing you," he said as he climbed on his horse.

Elizabeth could tell from a mile away he was bullshitting her. His mama must have hated him to give him that name. "Right... Elizabeth Sanchez. Good evening, sir." Not expecting much else from the man she walked away back to her horse.

Jim watched her walk away before turning his horse in the direction of Rhodes. Elizabeth thought about following, but she wanted to sleep. Finding a spot not far from the altercation she set up her camp and started a fire before skinning the rabbit and cooking the meat until it was tender enough to chew.

"What a day," she muttered to herself. She grabbed her journal and drew the lake in front of her with Epona grazing off to the right. The night was beautiful, the stars were bright that night.

"Goodnight, Epona," Elizabeth called to her horse before closing the flaps to her tent and letting sleep quickly take her.

A/N: Hi guys, so yeah I started another fanfic. I've played RDR 2 so many times and my love for Arthur Morgan is strong, he deserved much more and I wanted to give him that. This will be a real slow burn... sorry. But Elizabeth nor Arthur trust easily so they need to build it before going any further than some odd friendship I hope we get.