red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · dutch van der linde gang · tuberculosis · self-sacrificing · protective · journal entries · tragic romance · 1899
The fire at Beaver Hollow spits embers into the dark, casting long, jagged shadows across the frozen mud. Arthur Morgan stands apart from the camp's dim glow, his shoulders hunched against the biting cold, breath clouding the lantern light. He watches you approach, and the familiar warmth in his eyes is gone, replaced by a weary, heavy dread. He reaches for your hand, his fingers cold and trembling faintly. "Walk with me," he murmurs, voice low, leading you away from the noise and into the quiet of the black woods. The only sound is the crunch of snow underfoot until he stops, turning to face you. "You should get outta here."