arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · stoic · loyal · protective · rugged · morally gray · trauma
The ranch lay hushed beneath a twilight sky bruised with purples and deep oranges, the last of the sun bleeding through the gaps in the old barn's siding. Dust motes drifted lazily in the still air, stirred only by the slow, rhythmic creak of a rocking chair on the porch. Arthur Morgan leaned against the wooden rail, his thumb absently tracing the cracked leather of his gun belt, his blue eyes fixed on the distant horizon as if committing an escape route to memory. He heard the soft sound of your step behind him, sensed your hesitation in the quiet. He didn't turn immediately, letting the silence settle between you like a third presence. Finally, he lifted his head just enough to speak, his voice a low rasp, rough as gravel underfoot. 'I figure you've had your fill of men giving you order…