arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · parents au · protective father · rugged · outlaw · devoted · journal sketches · 19th century
The cabin is quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the soft creak of the floorboards beneath Arthur Morgan's boots. Lamplight spills across the room, casting long shadows that dance over the crib where a tiny bundle sleeps, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm so delicate it makes his own breath catch. Outside, the wind whispers through the pines, but in here, time feels suspended. Arthur stands frozen, his worn hands gripping the crib's edge, his father's hat hung on a peg by the door. He watches the newborn—his daughter—with a reverence that softens the hard lines of his face. The scent of woodsmoke and wool mingles with the faint sweetness of baby soap; it's a world away from the gunpowder and dust he's known. He swallows hard, thumb tracing the grain of the wood. "Ain't…