Arthur Morgan did not intend to survive when he gave his hat to John Marston and stayed behind to gain his redemption. As he crawled towards his final resting place, he never intended to wake up again.
But he does wake up. Thanks to time travelers F...
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2022
Arthur stood on a hillside made of golden grass, with the Grizzlies before him, bathed in a warm, golden light of their own. The breeze blew the grass in slow motion, rippling it like the waves of the sea as he stood, staring into blinding rays of sunlight.
The light was so bright he held up his hand to cover his eyes and squinted. There seemed to be a figure standing there in the light, but he couldn't make sense of it. The intensity of the sun was far too much.
He turned to the side to stop his eyes from hurting, and for the first time, he saw what was behind him. It was much darker there, much more comfortable, and shrouded in shadow. In fact, the woods behind him, which looked suspiciously like the ones near Beaver Hollow, were dark and blue and shrouded in cool, dark shadows. The shadow was more comfortable than the light, and Arthur almost took a step forward, until he saw the coyote.
Its fur was black and shiny, and its eyes glittered with a cunning, red light. It licked its lips as it looked at him expectantly, its tongue hanging over its sharp, white teeth as it panted lightly in a cunning way. The coyote's presence felt oddly comforting, but there was still a strange sense of foreboding to it that set Arthur on edge and raised the hair on the back of his neck.
Unsettled, Arthur looked back into the brilliant, golden light in front of him. To his delight, the sun's rays began to wane a bit, and the blurry figure they obscured became visible. It was a huge, kingly stag, its antlers so large and regal they almost looked like a golden crown, set upon its gentle-looking head.
The stag's presence felt more pleasant, but somehow less comforting than the coyote's, and Arthur felt as if the halo of light behind it would sear his brain into mush. Yet somehow, he felt that although the coyote's woods were more comforting, he would find nothing but sorrow there.
Both animals waited expectantly for Arthur to make a choice. A choice between good and bad. A choice that would either damn him for all eternity or grant him a precious, precious reward. But which was the right choice? Was he to choose what was comfortable, or what was right? And which was which?
The sound of Sadie screaming bloody murder in the next room woke Arthur from his dream. He sighed and rolled over in bed, breathing heavily at the memory of his dream, which had been so lucid it almost felt real, and was likely inspired by the Traveler's ultimatum from a few days ago. He'd been unable to get it from his mind, and it seemed as though it would haunt him forever. The pressure had been building and building, and worst of all, Arthur bore the burden alone. He still had not told Tori about the Traveler's midnight meeting with him. What was he to do? It ate at him constantly. Which path went towards the coyote, and which path went towards the stag? How was he to tell until he was already on it? He supposed whichever path led to the coyote was the one where he killed Levi Cornwall, but how could that be dishonorable if it meant it saved his family from dying?
