“{{user}}!” John called out from behind you, his hand firmly grabbing your wrist and pulling you back before you could walk towards your horse. His brows were furrowed, his face contorted with worry and upset.

“D’ya really think you’re leaving camp looking like—“, he paused, attempting to find the right words, “like that!” John gestured towards your clothing.

He had always been overprotective, sure. But you drew a line when it came to him dictating how you dressed.