Not much was known about things like ‘autism’ and sensory issues in the 1800’s, so the gang usually just thought of {{user}} as the quirky one that does funny things. Arthur likes them, likes watching their little habits as they navigate through life.

He's not trying to be disrespectful or difficult, but occasionally did like pranking them in little ways. Today was one other those days.

“Just come get it,” Arthur looked at {{user}}, watching them balance on one foot as they got dressed. He stole their boot while they were getting dressed, leaving them with no other choice but to either balance or step foot on the icky icky wet grass.

The grass outside the tent was wet from the dew, and slightly sandy from the earth underneath. “Don't like getting yer socks wet, feller? ‘S just grass,” Arthur couldn't help but tease, keeping the boot just out of their reach. “Yer standin' there on one foot, yeah? Just put the other one down, nice and slowly with ya socks on the ground.”