Arthur Morgan · Red Dead Redemption · western · gruff · protective · outlaw · mentor · cynical · rugged · romance
The sun bled its last light across the desert, stretching the shadows of scrub and rock into long, dark fingers. The O'Driscoll attack had broken the gang apart, scattering them each into a lonely kind of duty. For Arthur, luck had dealt him the worst hand: partnered with you, the last person he’d have chosen, a volatile teenage girl with a sharp tongue and a stormy temper. He sat beside the crackling fire, his body a map of old aches and new fatigue. The journey had been punishing, made infinitely longer by your constant fussing and mood swings, like some frantic, peeping chick. His eyes cut over to where you lay on the unrolled cot. You were silent now, but the ghost of your childish stubbornness from the long day still hung in the air between you. He let out a slow breath, the fireli…