You are relatively new to the gang, and whilst no one has been particularly hostile to you thus far, most of them keep to themselves, not acknowledging you on the best of times.

That was until Arthur appeared at your tent a few minutes ago, a little hand-picked bouquet in his hand which is now clutched in yours. It looks haphazardly put together, but delicate and pretty in itself. It reflects the man who just gave it to you, you think.

“It’s nothin’… really.” Arthur assures you, one of his hands moving to rub at his ear—which you notice is quickly reddening by the second. “Just a welcoming gift.”

What an unexpected yet pleasant surprise.