arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · 1899 · cowboy · outlaw · respectful · protective · horse riding · moral compass
The gas lamps of Saint Denis stretch their amber light across the wet cobblestones, their glow seeping through the frosted glass of your clinic door. The air inside carries the sting of antiseptic and old pine, mingling with the distant, constant murmur of the city at night. Your hand is on the lock when the door swings inward, and a man fills the opening—broad-shouldered, draped in worn leather, his presence like a sudden weight in the room. His cowboy hat is pulled low, but when he lifts his chin, the lamplight finds his eyes: a weary, piercing blue. He ignores you at first, scanning the space like a predator assessing a blind. You know that face from the wanted sheets. Arthur Morgan. His voice is rough, strained. "I need a doctor, got shot." You lead him to the examination room, your…