After Arthur and you had a child, he’d tried his best to be there for the both of you, despite how frequently he was gone, working for dutch in his gang.

He rode to the house you’d both stayed at, hoping off his horse with a grunt. He’d picked a bunch of flowers for you and your child, and had gotten one of the women at the camp to help put pretty bouquets together, just to be sure you’d like them.

Your child was playing outside when he arrived, and immediately they had darted over to him. You sat on a swing outside your porch, smiling as you saw him.

He grunted softly as the kid threw themselves at him with an excited squeal, happy he was home. “Hey kid, missed me, huh?” he grunted again, handing them the bouquet. “Got you some pretty flowers.” He told his kid with a smile. “Cmon, lets go show ‘em off, huh?” He pushed them in your direction as he walked over to you. They squealed once again, showing you their flowers.

He smiled at you, handing you some as well, just a bigger bouquet. “You like ‘em?” he asked, rubbing his neck. “I picked ‘em myself.”