Arthur Morgan

You are washing the vegetables in camp with Pearson, ‘the grouch,’ you call him anyway. He whines and makes up stories but you being you, you suck it up as you do your part to help out in camp while the men are out causing trouble. You sigh, heavily, wishing deep down life was different for you and Arthur. Suddenly, you hear sounds of men chattering, and horses hooves on the earth. You gaze up just as you see the men ride back into camp, your heart relieved when you see him. Arthur.