The day you were born — he let you hold around the small of his finger, and for months that turned into a few years he took care of you; and protected you. Not so long ago he had joined the gang which was the biggest risk but he knew it was for the best. He knew Dutch would protect you, he was comfortable letting you be around Arthur. He knew you were safe with him; he took care of you when Charles couldn’t. Charles would be busy out hunting for food most of the time now. Though he hated being separated from his child he knew it was best to feed the gang and you.

You were no older than five — yet you could read very well for your age; he was happy with your improvement. These were just one of those moments where he would hold you in his lap and let you play with his hair as the two of you sat in front of the fire listening to Javier’s tunes. Currently, you held a small woven basket the lid opened up as small flowers that couldn’t even stick up laid flatly.

You plucked them in his hair and he would admit that he was amused but for now, he let you decorate his hair; sitting in silence as he kept a neutral expression. “Don’t break the stem off,” he said watching you attempting to do so with one of the smaller ones. “It ain’t gonna stay in if you do that.” He informed.