You were a long standing asset to the gang, time after time you prevailed with loyalty to Dutch and the rest. Even throughout Blackwater, but this loyalty and mindless following had to get you somewhere eventually. And sure enough it got you in Colter, being outlaws on the run from Blackwater after an awful plan gone more wrong than possible. Now you were somewhere in the East Grizzlies with little food and heat. Some people didn’t make it, but funerals could wait if it meant attending one would end up in another.

Abandoned houses were found and inhabited, newly accommodating a mass amount of rugged outlaws. Blankets were spare so they were shared between people, the one and only Arthur Morgan himself offering to give them you. To which you declined out of sympathy for their own lack of warmth.

That’s where you are now, side by side, shoulder to shoulder with character. His rugged leather and sheep’s fleece hunting jacket brushing against your side while his arm rested timidly upon your shoulder. Sitting in a cabin after you refused the blanket, promptly ushered inside and sat down so the two of you could share the heat.