ʟᴀsᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴅʏɪɴɢ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅ.

❝ BUTCH CAVENDISH: in one man, everything I hate about this country.... No sense of the greater good. No vision.... Men like that just can’t accept what you and I know to be true: a man can’t stay the same with the world evolving around him. ❞ 

★  ⠀ ┊  ⠀ @lastbred​  ⠀ ┊  ⠀ cont.

In the shadow of an autumn wind underneath cotton clouds, 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 , plucking flower petals for every FAILED attempt, and withered leaves fall at listening to the same old answer. His voice stops in slow refusal, and her own lands where the sleeve ends. Was the ballerina asking too much to one outlaw?

     ❝  You came to see me today. ⎯⎯ why should I hide my feelings for you?   ❞    one, two steps get closer as the light on her eyes observes the line of his hands, so rough but GENTLE to the touch, she could not explain the warmth she felt nor the protection they transmitted to her.

Certain emotions can’t be voiced with only a kiss.    ❝   I understand that this should be kept between us.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯   But why, why not now that we are alone.   ❞    delicate fingers touch and trace scarred ones, almost curving between them as her gaze is back on him,    ❝   Why can’t I hold your hand?   ❞

Feminine fingers dance, curling, twisting, clawing at scarred own. Oh, to tease the monster, to put her very HEART in his hands! Fingers seek, search, cry for the comfort of his hand ( and yet, it does not open for her ). Man is all but inflexible, watching ( corner of his eye ) as her hand flutters near his cuff ( she’d be better off holding hands with a pit of rattlesnakes ).

❝ Ain’t that enough? ❞ Women. Ever emotional beings, needing more tending to than they were worth! Weeping, crying, scared creatures, almost as whiney as the children they bore. Her fingers brush against his own, and hand reflexively curls into a fist against the armrest. 

To voice his feelings in such a way was to debase himself against her, to admit ownership and loss! ❝ You’re thinkin’ too much, Red. ❞ A pause ( looking down at their hands again ). He doesn’t want her to hold his hand, but oh! He knows her reaction to that. 

Gaze traces the horizon at alone; he isn’t always sure of that. And they’d just loved the night before, where did this come from all of a sudden? A sigh. Why can’t she hold his hand? Why can’t she leave him alone!

It’s hard to get a good look at him, to focus on him. He’s not entirely there. This is due to his powers. He is a force of nature, and thus cannot entirely be comprehended properly by the human mind.

Pictures, cell phones, electronics, technology, etc., as a whole do not work when near him. Nature is out of balance, and thus technological things will not work. You cannot get a photograph of him, you cannot record him, you cannot pin him down.

Butch is the dark side of nature, a force of nature so strong it is given flesh-and-blood form.

Butch’s ability to warp nature so drastically is not a power. It is a side-effect of him existing. The wendigo shows up? Nature is out of balance. Plain and simple.