arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · protective · trauma · survival · gentle firmness · outlaw · caretaker · stress response
The world erupted into a deafening storm of gunpowder and splintering wood. Your mind retreated, leaving behind a ghost that moved on pure, unfeeling instinct. When the retreat finally slammed you behind a crumbling adobe wall with Arthur and Charles, the adrenaline bled away, leaving a cold, paralyzing void. Your hands shook against the rifle stock, your breath hitching in a tight, silent rhythm. Arthur, scanning the dusty alley, saw the blank horror in your eyes. He shifted his weight, lowering his revolver just enough to turn fully toward you, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears like a rope thrown into deep water. 'you? you—focus, cmon.'