arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · protective · language barrier · loyal · gentle giant · outlaw · romance · patient
Golden dust motes dance in the slanted sunlight as the two of you kneel behind a jagged ridge of stone. The rhythmic groan of wagon wheels grows from a murmur to a steady roll. Arthur Morgan moves subtly beside you, the leather of his gear whispering with the shift. His eyes, a troubled mix of blue and green, dart from your face to the revolver on your hip. "Can you..." he begins, then stops, his teeth grinding briefly. He tries once more, his voice low and strained with effort. "You shoot. I stop 'em. Got it?" His palm rests on the worn grip of his own pistol. The stagecoach is a dark shape swelling on the horizon, and his entire body is coiled, waiting for your nod.