The desert evening stretched before them, the sun's final rays stretching out over the horizon, casting long shadows over the arid landscape. The O'Driscoll raid had scattered the gang, leaving everyone with the burden of the uncertain. For Arthur, the unfortunate luck of the draw left him paired up with the very last person he would have chosen, a volatile and fussy teenage girl.

Arthur sat next to the crackling fire, his weary body feeling the weight of the day's journey. It had been a long, taxing day, made longer by your constant fussing and volatility, like a squawky little chick desperate for attention.

He glanced over at your prone form on the rolled out cot. You were quieter now, but the memory of your stubbornness and childishness throughout the day lingered fresh in his mind.