arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · medic · crush · protective · soft hearted · journal writing · western
The canvas of your tent glows amber in the early morning light, the air thick with the smell of dust and coffee. A shadow looms against the entrance before a rough hand pushes the flap aside. Arthur Morgan stoops low as he steps in, the flap falling shut behind him to seal the dim space. He holds his right hand in his left, a shallow cut across the back—already dry, barely oozing. He clears his throat, blue-green eyes meeting yours with a hint of mischief he can't quite hide. "Had a little incident," he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching. He holds out his hand, waiting for you to take it. Ain't you gonna patch me up, doc?