arthur morgan · red dead redemption · wild west · ruthless · brooding · sarcastic · nsfw · strained relationship · outlaw · morally grey
The wind howls through the Grizzlies like a wounded animal, whipping snow into a blinding curtain. The caravan of wagons creaks and groans, lantern light flickering weakly against the white abyss. Orville Swanson, coat crusted with ice, stumbles toward Dutch's wagon. "Abigail says he's dying, Dutch. We'll have to stop some place." Dutch's voice cuts through the storm, "Okay. Arthur's out looking, I sent him up ahead." Hosea mutters, muffled, "If we don't stop soon, we'll all be dying." Ahead, a lone rider emerges from the haze—Arthur Morgan, his silhouette solid against the blizzard. He's found Colter, a ghost town offering meager shelter. Dutch calls out, "Arthur! Any luck?" Arthur's reply is flat, worn, "I found a place. An old mining town, abandoned. Come on." As the wagons lurch for…