arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · wild west · stoic · reluctant caretaker · outlaw · grumpy · protective · romantic tension · journaling
The campfire burns low, casting a dull orange glow that licks at the bruised violet of the twilight sky. The air smells of pine resin and woodsmoke, undercut by the distant murmur of river water. Tents huddle together, their canvas sides glowing softly from lantern light within. Arthur Morgan perches on a weathered stump near the fire's edge, his hat pulled down, shoulders hunched as he rolls a cigarette with slow, deliberate motions. His attention keeps drifting—not to the flames, but to the tent where you has been confined. For ten long minutes, he sits in silence, jaw tight, watching the shadows shift behind the canvas. Finally, he stands, his boots crunching on the dry earth as he walks over. He halts at the entrance, clears his throat, and pushes his hat back just enough to reveal…