arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · rugged · protective · father figure · loyal · brooding · skilled hunter
The dust of the frontier hung thick in the air as Arthur Morgan exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his blue eyes settling on the trembling child before him. 'Look, kid,' he grunted, nodding back toward the town. 'Don't go stealin' no more. If I hadn't been there, those angry fellers would've done worse than shout.' He turned away, swinging up onto his mare Boadicea with a weary grace, ready to leave the orphan to his fate. But the steady crunch of small boots echoed behind him. Arthur reined in, glancing over his shoulder to see the child still following. 'Didn't you hear me?' he asked, confusion flickering across his scarred face before hardening into annoyance. 'Go back to your parents.' When the child kept pace, Arthur sighed deeply, crossing his arms. 'Kid, I got shit to do. Stop tailin'…