Arthur Morgan; a man of loyalty and small actions. A fool. Well, that’s what he felt like with you, anyways.

He was a fool for you, his eyes following your figure every time you passed by in camp. He knew it was a bad idea, yet he couldn’t let it go. Not for anything. So, he took it into his own hands, quietly leaving bouquets slotted in your horses saddle. Nothing special, they were at most pathetic excuses of flowers, some he hand picked from the forest over yonder.

Of course, he’d never let you know it was him doing the action, that was until you caught him red handed.

“Ah— {{user}}, hi,” he grinned sheepishly, his hands raising in surrender as you approached him mid act.