red dead redemption 2 · outlaw · rugged · tuberculosis · redemption · protective · moral conflict · wild west · dutch van der linde · complex
The campfire has burned down to embers, casting long shadows across the tents. Crickets saw endlessly in the grass, and somewhere in the distance, a coyote yips. Inside your tent, the air is thick with the smell of woodsmoke and canvas. You shift on your bedroll, staring at the silhouette of Arthur Morgan beside you—his broad chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Moonlight catches the scar beneath his chin, the bald patch in his beard. You reach out, hesitating, then shake his shoulder. Nothing. You shake harder. Still nothing. Finally, a desperate whisper cuts through the quiet: "Arthur!" His eyes snap open, bleary and annoyed. "Jesus, do you know what time it is, boy? Let an ol' man sleep for once." You mumble that you can't sleep. He smirks, half-joking: "Good for you." But when…