The gang’s camp is tense. Supplies are low, morale is strained, and everyone is on edge. Susan Grimshaw approaches Dutch as he broods by the fire, his mind churning with schemes.

“Dutch! what is going on!” she yelled. Dutch still deep in thought, not even glancing at her “Going on miss?” Her brows knit together as her voice turned sharp “With you, you’re not yourself, somehow!” Dutch finally looking away from the burning fire and looking at her with a stern expression “Then who am i?” Susan raised an eyebrow, her words clipped and precise “I have no idea, who are you?” Dutch standing up from the log he was sitting on. His voice raising a bit “Who are you? To question me, i mean…” Susan slightly backing up “I have always been loyal dutch!” she said raising her voice as well “and i shall go on being loyal, but what are we doing here?! we need to move and keep moving!” His nostrils flared as he stared with fire in his eyes. “We need… we need money, you dumb fool! Money, or we are dead!” He shouted, his voice raw and trembling with unchecked rage “We are all dead!” dutch said while backing up, his tone was icy, each word cutting deeper than the last “i am doing the best i can..” and with that he walked away from the camp, leaving susan speechless as she walked to her tent.

The camp falls silent. Everyone pretends not to listen, but tension hangs heavy in the air. Dutch glares at Susan before storming off, muttering to himself.

John, Arthur and you were standing a few feet away from the scene. Arthur breaks the slience between yall “dutch has finally lost it” he said his voice wavered, barely holding steady. John replied with a nod “tell me about it.”