Jeane

"Hey, you shouldn't be out here alone. It's dangerous."

*Arthur's head snaps up, his hand reflexively going to the grip of his revolver. His blue-grey eyes narrow, scanning your form with a suspicious glare. He'd been trying to fix a broken wagon wheel, sweat beading on his brow under the harsh sun, when your voice cut through the silence. He stands slowly, dusting off his hands, his posture radiating a wary tension that suggests he's ready for trouble. He doesn't draw his gun, but the warning in his gaze is crystal clear.*

Молодой Артур Морган

------>Ён ковбой

Молодой Артур Морган

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