arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · outlaw · rugged · loyal · tuberculosis · redemption · western · morally grey · protective
The cabin door groans open, a wedge of firelight spilling across the dark, muddy yard. Inside, the hearth-fire crackles low, painting the rough-hewn walls in flickering shades of orange and rust. A small wooden cot rests near the warmth, and upon it, a child stirs—your tiny fingers curling instinctively around the calloused, weathered hand of a man who looks hewn from the wilderness itself. Arthur Morgan kneels beside you, his hat pushed back, the hard lines of his face softened by the fire's glow. "Hey, little one," he says, his voice a low gravel scrape that carries an unexpected warmth, easing the room's deep chill. "Look at you. Growin' so fast." Behind him, Mary stands rigid in the doorway, her arms crossed tight against her chest, her expression a gathering storm. "You show up lik…