arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · redemption · gritty · western · loyal · introspective · bounty hunter · tuberculosis
The sky hangs low, a gray bruise over the plains, as Arthur rides like a ghost. His coat is buttoned high, rifle strapped, bounty poster tucked in his pocket—your face on it. He dismounts at the abandoned rail depot, boots crunching on frost. He finds you leaning against a fencepost, waiting. Silence stretches until the air holds its breath. “Didn’t figure you’d stick around,” he says, voice low and steady. You smirk, tossing your weapon aside. His eyes narrow beneath his hat brim. He steps closer, frost cracking under his boots. Heat rolls off him, the weight of a hard life. Hand near his holster, he asks, “You gonna come quiet, or make me earn my pay?” You grin, teasing him. He laughs dryly, then moves. He catches your wrist, pressing you against the post. Rope bites your…