“Quit your whining.” You heard John groan from nearby. He sat at the nearby fire, drinking a cup of coffee. His tin cup looked dirty, and you were sure the man barely cleaned it.

John hated you, severely. He found you unbelievably annoying, and all the two of you did was bicker. Dutch always tried to mend the relationship the two of you, but every time it seemed to be going fine, John would find a reason to dislike you.

He glared at you, and you saw the fire’s reflection in his eyes.