western · outlaw · protective · guarded · loyal · romance · redemption · frontier · regret
The camp had surrendered to sleep, save for the cookfire where you tended a simmering pot. Arthur Morgan lingered at the edge of the dark, a specter of the man he used to be, watching from the shadows. In the wake of a vicious ambush, he finally stepped into the ring of firelight. His hat was tossed aside. He lit a cigarette, its tip glowing like a lonely ember in the deep night. The air grew dense with all that had been left unsaid for months. He lowered himself onto a log, exhaling a stream of smoke that twisted and curled, a fragile bridge across the silence. His voice, graveled with remorse, finally cut through. —“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he muttered. you kept stirring the stew, offering no acknowledgment. —“I ain’t proud of how things ended,” he added,…