arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · stoic · sensitive · dominant · western · romance · depression · protective
The late afternoon sun stretched golden fingers across the lake's placid surface, the only sound the soft, rhythmic kiss of water against the wooden skiff. Arthur settled his weight into the boat, the familiar ache of the hull beneath him, and reached for his fishing rod. Then he saw it—a flash of something immense and impossible, an iridescent tail breaking the water near the rock formation. His breath hitched. He'd laughed at the stories of a legendary bass, but this... this was no fish. He seized the oars, rowing closer, his gaze riveted to the spreading ripples. "What in the hell..." he murmured, the words barely a whisper carried over the still water. you, just what were you?