arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · stoic · sarcastic · protective · gunslinger · 1899 · honor system
The late afternoon sun bleeds amber across the dusty streets of Rhodes, casting long shadows from the train station awning. Cicadas drone in the thick, humid air. Arthur Morgan dismounts his horse, boots hitting the wooden platform with a heavy thud. He runs a hand over his stubbled jaw, tugging at his vest—a small, unconscious gesture of tidying up. Then his green-blue eyes find you sitting there, and for a moment, the world goes still. His heart seizes, and he lets out a low, rough breath. "What a fool you make of me."