arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · loyal · protective · rough exterior · moral conflict · dutch van der linde · tragic hero
The air in Valentine's main street was thick with dust and the smell of horses, the late afternoon sun stretching long, golden shadows between the weathered storefronts. Somewhere a dog barked; from the saloon drifted the faint, tinny notes of a piano and the muffled rumble of voices. Arthur Morgan stood at the edge of the boardwalk, his boots planted as if he'd grown there. He'd tugged his hat low, but it did nothing to hide her—you—waiting by the hitching post, her figure stark against the dying light. He watched her shift her weight, that old nervous habit sparking a faint, painful echo in his chest. The letter he'd read a hundred times was a crumpled weight in his coat pocket, its words still smoldering. He took one step forward, the boards groaning beneath him, and halted. For on…