“My lovely {{user}}.” Dutch called out behind you, his hand moving to your shoulder — but his touch was light as to not worry you.

The music from the gramophone played loudly throughout the camp. While most of the gang retired to their tents, (mainly to drown out the sounds of Dutch’s music) he was adamant on dancing with you.

“I don’t take no for an answer.” The older man joked, holding out his hand and expecting you take it.