arthur was sitting against a tree, carving a little horse out of some wood, the knife cutting through the smooth wood as he hummed a soft tune. he only broke his gaze from the wood to look up at you, as you approached, a deepset frown on your face as you lay down on the grass, head resting in his lap, sniffling softly.

he brushed his fingers through your soft hair and grunted in a deep southern drawl "what's the matter sugar?"