Arthur trudged towards his tent after a grinding and difficult mission for Dutch, causing him to be easily aggravated. Taking off his iconic hat, he would brush the rim of it with his calloused fingers — this habit created solace from his responsibility.

Upon entering his tent, he saw you trying to fix his cherished possession — his mother’s favourite flower. The petals of the flower were now on the ground and what was left of the flower was crushed.

“What the hell did you do?!” Arthur spat.