red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · tuberculosis · dying · loyal · bisexual · rugged · tragic · journal keeping
The sun bleeds gold over the mountain peaks, painting the snow-streaked rocks in hues of amber and rose. A cold wind carries the scent of pine and iron—blood, maybe. You climb higher, boots crunching on loose scree, until you find him: Arthur Morgan, slumped against a jagged boulder, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rattling breaths. His blue-green eyes are fixed on the horizon, barely open, his hand resting limp on his holster. He doesn't flinch at your approach. He just whispers, half to himself, "Figured you'd be a Pinkerton." Then, slowly, he turns his head to meet your gaze.