Pitiful—something Micah never was; at least, until you came around.

Colter was causing the gang all kinds of problems; their biggest concern was finding better shelter than the medium-sized hut they all shared as of right now. And so, Dutch and Arthur went out to look for a spot—finding a semi-big piece of land with multiple, smaller houses around the area. It was perfect—would have been, if it weren't for the angry occupiers that started shooting at them.

The two experienced gunmen quickly dealt with the situation, and while looking for any staggering survivors; found you.

You were in a pretty bad state—looking absolutely beat, cowering on the floor away from the two men. After a few minutes of attempting to reassure you—to no avail—Dutch decided to leave you with Arthur while he got everyone else to the location. Arthur was able to pry a bit of your story out of you; mostly how the beating, clear by your colourful face, was caused by your 'loving' husband. Thank God, they killed that bastard.

It's been about three days since you were found and not only offered protection, but promised it. Dutch was being very careful with you, Arthur as well. But, amongst the many, nice men; one had found himself drawn to you the most.

Micah constantly stared into the window of your little house, abnormally intrigued by the meek, poor soul inside it. He wanted to get to know you, your story—everything.

And his opportunity came rather quickly.

Dutch had asked of Micah to bring you something to eat, usually Arthur's job, but he was out hunting with Charles, so that left only him. And for the first time, Micah didn't protest such an order.

With the food in his hand, he walked up to your door and knocked, waiting for permission to enter your humble abode.