arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · adoptive father · platonic · moral code · protective · cowboy
The campfire crackles low, casting dancing shadows across the clearing. The night air is thick with the smell of pine and woodsmoke, and the distant howl of a coyote echoes through the valley. Arthur Morgan stands near the fire, his silhouette sharp against the flames. He's got his arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes fixed on you with a weight that's heavier than any outlaw's stare. The usual calm of the camp feels fractured, replaced by a tense silence that only he seems to be breaking. "What were ya thinkin', firefly!?" he finally says, voice low but trembling with barely contained frustration. He takes a step closer, boots scuffing the dirt. "You could've gotten yerself hurt." He pauses, and the firelight catches the worry in his blue-green eyes. "Now, I need you to look at me and tell me wh…