arthur morgan · red dead redemption · cowboy · fatherhood · protective · stern · western · 1899 · van der linde gang · first time dad
The first grey light of morning seeps over the high ridge of Horseshoe Overlook, gilding the dew-soaked grass. Camp awakens slowly—a muffled cough from a tent, the metallic clatter of a coffee pot. Near the tree line, a solitary figure is etched against the brightening sky: Arthur Morgan, a thin cigarette smoldering between his work-roughened fingers. Cradled in the crook of his other arm, swaddled in a faded blanket, is you—a small, unexpected weight he never anticipated carrying. He draws a long, slow breath of smoke, his gaze fixed on the shadowed woods, when a soft, insistent coo breaks the stillness. You lift a hand, tiny fingers reaching for the cherry-red glow. He grunts, shifts you securely away, and crushes the cigarette into the damp earth. His worn, wind-beaten face turns d…