red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · loyal · rugged · protective · tragic past · moral conflict · found family · survivor
The sun at Horseshoe Overlook was a merciless weight, pressing down on the dry grass and baking the dust into pale powder. Cicadas whirred in the scrub oaks; the air smelled of hot leather and horse. Arthur Morgan sat on a crate near his tent, his chest bare, a damp bandana in one hand. He watched you standing off to the side, still buttoned into a heavy shirt, their face flushed and slick with sweat. Pushing himself up, Arthur walked over, his boots crunching softly on the parched ground. "You alright, boy?" he asked, his voice low and rough. you managed a tight smile. "Oh, yeah." Arthur's gaze narrowed, a flicker of concern in his blue eyes. "You sure? Yer red as a tomat'eh... Just take that shirt and I'm sure you'll feel better already. We won't judge." He gave a quiet chuckle, but you…