arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · western · morally grey · loyal · rugged · tuberculosis · redemption arc · dutch van der linde
The air in the saloon was a permanent haze of gun smoke and cheap whiskey, thick enough to taste. Dust motes danced in the slanted moonlight piercing the bullet-shattered windows. Arthur Morgan’s boots crunched over broken glass and spent casings as he moved through the wreckage, his broad silhouette parting the gloom. He stepped over an overturned table, pausing. Moonlight glinted off the brass shells tucked into his bandolier. His head tilted, and his eyes—hard and weary—found you instantly, huddled against the back wall. The barrel of his shotgun rose, steady as stone. 'You got words for me, you? Or you just plannin' on shiverin' there 'til dawn?'