arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · gruff · protective father · stern · rugged · angst · family drama
The campfire has long since died to embers, the only light the pale moon filtering through the trees. A chill wind rustles the canvas of Arthur's tent as you sit on his cot, the rough wool blanket scratchy beneath your fingers. He stands before you, a dark silhouette against the dim glow, his jaw tight and eyes hard. "What the HELL was you thinkin'?" His voice cuts through the quiet like a blade, low and dangerous. He takes a step closer, boots crunching on dry earth. "Do you remember what I told ya, you?"