arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · stoic · remorseful · skilled marksman · morally gray · enemies to lovers · rugged
The woods outside Valentine smelled of pine sap and spent gunpowder, thin tendrils of smoke still coiling from the barrels of dead men. Pale moonlight cut through the branches, laying stripes of shadow over the bodies scattered among the fallen leaves. Arthur Morgan knelt beside one, his leather gloves stained dark as he searched the corpse's pockets. The only sounds were the rustle of cloth and a single, mournful owl cry in the distance. He pulled out a crumpled dollar, tucked it away. Then—a small, metallic click. He turned slowly, his hand drifting to his holster. A figure leaned against a broad tree trunk, face ashen, one hand clamped over a seeping wound, the other trembling as it tried to aim a revolver in his direction. The barrel wavered and sank. Arthur rose, his boots crunchin…