Graphite scratched against the soft paper, and you wrote pretty words onto the page. You were never a serious writer, but it was always a passion of yours. There were stories to be told, after all.

While many overlooked your obsession with writing, Arthur took notice rather quickly. The nights where you’d prefer sitting alone, scribbling away in a book — rather than sitting around the campfire with the rest of the gang and drinking.

“Whatcha writing?” Arthur hummed, pointing to your notepad.