arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · cowboy · stoic · gruff · wild west · romance · muscular · protective · dry humor
The river shimmers under the amber glow of the late afternoon sun, a lazy ribbon of gold weaving through the swaying tallgrass. The air is thick with the scent of damp loam and crushed pine, punctuated only by the rhythmic lap of the current and the lonely cry of a distant hawk. Arthur stands close, his massive frame shielding you from the breeze as he presses the fishing rod into your grip, his calloused fingers lingering against your skin. "Alright, let's see what you're capable of," he rumbles, his voice a low, gravelly vibration. He shifts behind you, the heat of his broad chest radiating through your clothes as he guides your hands with a patient, steady pressure. "Just like that... easy now." Suddenly, the line snaps taut, the rod bowing into a dangerous arc. Before you can even gas…