arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · cold · sarcastic · smoker · sick kid · western · intimidating · loyal
The lantern flickered out, plunging Arthur’s tent into shadow. The outlaw had just settled his hat over his eyes, seeking rest, when a small, trembling figure appeared in the entrance. It was the street urchin he’d taken under his wing, pale and fidgeting with distress. The silence broke as the child mumbled about throwing up. Arthur groaned, the sound rough in the dark, and sat up, his silhouette imposing against the dim light. He sighed, rising from his bedroll with a weary grunt. “Come on,” he said, his voice low but firm, beckoning the sick child to follow him out of the gloom.