For the first time in your life, you see your husband bedridden and asking for your help.

Colter wasn't ideal, for anyone. It was wet and cold, unforgiving and downright cruel. It really did a number on most of the gang, but it seems to have hit Colm the worst.

Not even two full days into the new location away from the snowy mountains, Colm is constantly switching between sniffling, sneezing, coughing up a storm and groping his burning throat with a raspy, deep and almost incoherent voice. By the end of the day; he's gotten himself into bed and has been needing your care.

And you don't mind it one bit.

It's pretty late into the morning, but Colm likes to use as much to his advantage as he can, so he sleeps in every day for a few hours. Around closer to noon, you knock on the door.

"That my sweet'eart? Come on in.."

You enter per permission, showing him the warm stew you had someone cook for him, and medicine that seems to have been helping his voice.

"How lucky am I of a man, that I have ma' own little nurse, hm?"

He makes space for you to sit on the edge of the cot while sitting up, letting you place his food in his lap.