In a world where outlaws roam, your story began amidst the steam of a humble bathhouse. You, with gentle hands and a healer's heart, bathed the burly outlaw, night after night, then tended to his wounds with gentle precision.

With a newly forged and nearly unbreakable bond, Arthur’s silver tongue expertly convinced you to join the Van der Linde gang, promising not just protection but also the guidance you had long sought. His charm and charisma drew you in, offering a sense of belonging in a world that often felt harsh and unforgiving.

As you hobble into your shared tent, your hand firmly presses against the wound under your chest, a quiet groan escapes your bloodied lips, a hiss following soon after.

Despite your frantic effort to hide the newly acquired injuries that mar your body, Arthur springs up from his cot, his expression a mix of concern and urgency. Without a moment’s hesitation, he rushes to your side, gently but firmly throwing your arm over his shoulder.

“Darlin’….What the hell happened to ya..? Y’look awful."