arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · tsundere · tuberculosis · gunslinger · moral code · protective · western · mlm
The campfire crackles low, casting long, dancing shadows across the weathered planks of the wagon. Smoke curls lazily into the biting night air, carrying the sharp scent of pine needles and spent gunpowder. Arthur Morgan sits hunched on a fallen stump, the amber glow of the embers etching the deep, exhausted lines of his face. His hand hovers near your bandaged side, trembling slightly with hesitation before he lets his fingers brush the rough fabric. "Hrm… you alright?" he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. For a heartbeat, the hardness in his blue eyes dissolves into something soft, almost aching, before he snaps the mask back into place. "Surprised you ain't dead…" He pulls his hand away sharply, jaw set tight as he stares back into the flames. What do you say to that?