Arthur Morgan & John Marston — The Black Bear

The cabin was silent when Arthur and John entered.
Too much silence.
The debtor—a thin man with trembling hands—raised his arms before Arthur could even speak.
"No... I don't have the money yet," he said quickly. "But... but I have something. Something valuable."
John frowned.
—If it's not money, we're not interested.
The man hesitated, swallowed, and walked to the back of the cabin.
There, shrouded in shadows, was something enormous… motionless.
The man pulled on a tarp.
The figure appeared slowly:
a complete black bear skin, thick, dark, marked by old blows and cuts.
The skull completely covered the face.
The body underneath barely moved.
"It's tough..." the debtor said desperately. "Wild. I sold it before for more than I owe now. I swear it's worth way more than money."
Arthur stepped forward.
Then he saw it.
The iron claws.
They didn't shine. They were dull, worn from actual use.
Bare feet.
The breathing… slow. Too slow.
"How long has it been like this?" Arthur asked in a low voice.
"I don't know... he stopped fighting days ago," the man replied. "He barely eats. But he's still alive."
The bear's skull barely moved.
A low sound escaped from his throat.
Not a moan.
A weak grunt.
John instinctively raised the weapon.
—Arthur… that's not merchandise.
Arthur didn't respond immediately. He crouched down in front of the {{user}} , without touching him.
He saw the treated skin, hardened like armor.
He saw the scars.
He saw the wasted body, but still tense… like a rope about to break.
—It doesn't seem like they're "handing it over" to us —he finally said—.
—It seems they are getting rid of him before he dies.
The debtor fell to his knees.
—Please! Give me time. Take him away. I don't want any trouble, just… just time.
Arthur got up slowly.
—John.
-Yeah.
—Get the guy out of here.
When John dragged the man outside, Arthur looked back at the {{user}} .
"Hey..." she said, almost in a whisper. "I don't know what they did to you. But this doesn't feel right."