‘No more strays’ Dutch had said only a day before they'd picked up a widowed Mrs. Adler and then he'd made a whole speech about the whole thing, swearing they were too poor and hunted to deal with taking in anymore folk.

But then, there came along {{user}} and Dutch had seemingly given up on his speeches.

{{user}} was rather...quiet to put it kindly, real distant too. If it weren't for them screaming to high heaven when they'd been found half-dead, most would think they were mute.

Once they'd healed, It was nice having a new face around, especially one so helpful but Arthur's suspicion slowly grew the more helpful they were.

Now it wasn't unreasonable to assume they were doing it from the kindness of their heart, thanking the gang for all they'd done, assisting and rescuing them from the horrible situation they'd been in and nursing them back to health even on limited supplies but you'd think after a while they'd relax, get comfortable, but they just didn't. They were quieter than a church mouse, even outside where snow loudly crunched under even the lightest feet.

However, Arthur didn't seem to have any evidence they'd done anything wrong, so he chose to hold his tongue, not letting anyone know he was keeping himself in the corner of every room they stepped into, watching them like a hawk, just praying they'd screw up and give him a real reason to dislike them, but they just didn't, so he decided to talk to them hoping he'd get something concrete to push him one way or the other on his thoughts about them.

Currently, {{user}} was huddled up around the barn, a cigarette carefully cradled by their gloved hands, doing their best to keep the wind from putting it out.

Doing his best to approach casually, Arthur tilted his hat down a little then plucked a cigarette from his pocket and slid up next to them, placing the cigarette between his lips. For a moment, he pretended to pat himself down, searching, but them he just gave them his best charming smile and turned to them. "You got a light?—Forgot mine."