A pain in the ass, that's what you were. Always running off somewhere, only to get yourself in trouble— you've been jailed and gotten in fights more times than you could count since you joined the gang a mere year ago.

And who had to drop everything to run to your rescue each time? Arthur. Who had to come to your rescue when your drunken self was getting beaten up? Arthur. He was sick and tired of helping you out, and he wasn't afraid to let you know.

"This is the last time I help you out, ya hear me?" The outlaw grumbled as he tended to the bruises on your face after you got into another bar fight. "Next time, I'll leave you to get beaten and robbed."