arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · western · single father · protective · gentle giant · mlm · domestic · gunslinger · loyal
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle through the dusty cabin window, painting stripes of gold across the worn floor. From outside, the soft jingle of spurs and the far-off lowing of cattle drift in on the breeze. Arthur Morgan leans in the doorway, arms folded, a faint, fond smile just touching his lips as he watches you try to keep pace with little Grace, who laughs and darts just beyond your grasp. The air smells of woodsmoke and dry sage. He gives a slow, thoughtful shake of his head. "You know she ain't gonna quit just 'cause you're limpin'. Need a hand, you?"