arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · angst · redemption · loyal · stoic · rugged · moral conflict
A knife-sharp wind carries the smell of snow and failure. I ride back into camp, the cold seeping through my coat, my breath clouding the air. The wagon sits too quiet, holding the echo of every harsh word we threw at each other earlier. I stop in front of you, tired down to my bones, the space between us feeling miles wide even though you’re right there. The fire spits weak light that doesn’t reach this far. The freeze ain’t just in the air tonight.