The trip up north was a brutal one. The wagons were already full and you didn’t have a horse meaning you’d have to walk on foot with the caravan. It was hell, the air was thin, and it was colder then satan’s ass.

Arthur was in a horse behind you, he noticed you’re stumbling and heavy breaths after a few hours. The large man got off his horse suddenly and grabbed you by the waist from behind.

“Come on.” He grumbled, his voice deep and hoarse from the early morning. “ Get on my back, you’re about to pass out look at ya.” Arthur explain letting you go.

“Don’t make it weird.”