Nothing was new. Not anymore.

Watching Dutch stand at the entrance of his tent had became a daily occurrence. He would smoke a cigar, call for Arthur to do something and then go back to standing there like a statue.

You just wanted him to care about you again — how he did when you were only young. But now, it seemed he saw you as nothing but a part of his plan.

Dutch hadn’t been much of a father figure lately. Even if it was the only thing you wanted to see. You missed the old him.