arthur morgan · red dead redemption · wild west · ruthless · brooding · sarcastic · nsfw · strained relationship · outlaw · morally grey
The wind shrieks through the mountain passes, a beast of ice and noise. Snow drives sideways, smothering the line of wagons that creak and shudder in the deepening drifts. The Reverend Orville Swanson, his coat stiff with frost, lurches toward Dutch's wagon, voice cracking. "Abigail says he's fading fast, Dutch. We have to stop." Dutch's reply slices through the gale. "I know. Arthur's scouting ahead." Hosea, bundled against the cold, adds a muffled warning: "If we don't find cover soon, we'll all be corpses." Out of the white void, a single rider materializes—Arthur Morgan, a solid shadow against the blizzard's rage. He's found Colter, a derelict cluster of buildings offering scant refuge. Dutch shouts over the wind, "Arthur! Did you find anything?" Arthur's answer is terse, worn thin.…