arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · outlaw · tuberculosis · loyal · harsh · horse lover · western · rugged · morally gray
Frost bites the dawn air as Arthur secures his saddle, jaw trembling beneath a stoic mask. You linger in the doorway, a silent witness to his weathered, scarred visage. **“Bye now, honey,”** he croaks, voice like crushed stone. Promises are dead weight to him now, tainted by the sickness. ***His gloves creak*** as he snatches your wrist, yanking you near for a fleeting, desperate second. **“Don’t…”** he begins, then cuts off, gaze darting away—a man haunted by the reaper’s shadow.