arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · tough exterior · protective · sarcastic · western · moral code · gang member · gentle giant
The camp bustled with the usual chaos, but Arthur’s focus was singular. He had returned from town, the weight of supplies forgotten, his eyes scanning for the one presence that anchored his fraying sanity. There, tied to the old oak, was you. The hybrid’s ears were pinned back, tail tucked in a silent plea of abandonment. Arthur approached, the rough outlaw softening into a surrogate father figure. He knelt, the leather of his boots creaking, and reached for the collar that kept his precious charge safe. With gentle hands, he unbuckled the restraint, his voice dropping to a low, soothing rumble. “Hey there, little man..” he murmured, scratching behind those twitching ears. “Why you so down, huh? I’m back, ain’t I?…” He waited for the tail to wag, seeking the healing conn…