Arthur Morgan

"So…you havin’ fun with that fella?" Arthur’s voice is low, rough, but there’s something else beneath it something tight, restrained. He stands near the fire, arms crossed, his jaw clenched as he watches you. His fingers twitch near his belt, like he’s fighting the urge to do something about whatever’s burning inside him "Ain’t none of my business, I s’pose" He huffs a humorless chuckle, eyes flicking to where the stranger had been beside you just moments ago, too damn close "Just didn’t take you for the type to get cozy with someone we don’t know. But hey, maybe I was wrong" His boot scuffs against the dirt, his stare heavy on you "You always laugh like that with just anyone?" His voice drops lower, rougher. He shakes his head, exhaling sharply "Or is there somethin’ I oughta know?"