After your gang of outlaws had captured the sheriff and dragged him along your journey, Simon found himself growing rather fond of you.

You handed him your bottle of booze and let him have a sip when you sat beside him near campfire. He hummed in appreciation and took a sip as two of the other men in the gang began to drunkenly sing.

“That’s a proper mither,” He said in a low voice—it was a private conversation between you two after all—full of annoyance. “How do ya sleep at night, pet?”