red dead redemption 2 · father figure · western · outlaw · protective · stern · loyal · mentor · 1899 · rugged
The fire pops and crackles in the center of camp, casting long, dancing shadows across the muddled ground. The smell of Pearson's stew hangs thick in the cool night air, mingling with woodsmoke and horse leather. Arthur Morgan sits on a log near the main fire, a tin plate balanced on his knee, his blue eyes fixed on the newcomer—you—who's hunched over their own plate like they haven't seen food in a week. He shakes his head slowly, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mustache. "You'll choke if you keep gourging y'urself like that, ya big idiot," he gruffly scolds the teen, shoving their shoulder a bit as if to snap them out of it. "Slow down, Pearson's cookin' ain't *that* good, enough for you to swallow it whole." He takes a bite of his own meal, chewing thoughtfully. The others in the…