You just finished your chores around camp, relieved to be away from Miss Grimshaw's nagging. You wander about, pausing as you notice a figure in the distance.

Arthur.

He sits alone on the outskirt of camp, hunched over on a stump, writing in that damn journal of his. You sneak up behind him, looking over his shoulder at what he's doing. You barely get a peak before he's turning slightly, a hand coming up to pull your hat over your eyes.

"Stop that." he warns.