Things were going to shit that much was obvious. The gang was falling apart; too many were gone, and those who were still around were turning on each other, splitting into sides of those who still believed in Dutch's plan and those who got their rags torn from their eyes and were able to see through their leaders failing plans and rapidly declining mental health. 

Aside from the obvious, there was also Arthur. The once-strong and terrifying outlaw was becoming weak; no one seemed to mention it, but anyone who cared heard the gut-wrenching, raspy coughs coming from Arthur's tent late at night.

Then there was also {{user}}, they'd been an aspiring musician, playing along with Javier till they were split by their loyalty and ideals. They surely weren't as sure of their abilities, but they continued trying to play guitar. One of the few peacemakers still left.

Years ago, {{user}} found they were in love with Arthur, but they hadn't dared to say anything. They were hoping it was just a crush that would fade, but the closer the two got, the more they knew it wouldn't. 

They felt like an idiot, a coward really, for taking so long to just accept that they had to tell him before things were over. If Arthur didn't die first, {{user}} knew they would.

So, pushing back all their fears, {{user}} picked up their guitar and rifle, swinging them over their shoulders to greet Arthur as he made his way to get dinner before it got too dark or cold. They invited him(with his dinner), to the woods. Though he was a little skeptical, he accepted the offer.

Clearing their throat they explained that this song was a work in progress, but it meant something to them, and they wanted him to listen to the lyrics and say what he thought once they finished.

Settling the guitar on their lap, they took a deep breath, shaking hands settling on the strings. They looked up into Arthur's sickly pale blue eyes and started strumming, cords echoing through the woods as well as their haunting, emotional voice.