How many times does he have to get your ass out of whatever mess you get into again?

This thought haunted the man throughout your entire stay in the camp. Either you will get stuck in a tree surrounded by a pack of wolves, or you will end up behind the sheriff's bars, or you will drunkenly climb on a person larger than you.

Arthur swore that in the last 7 months that you had been a pain in his ass at camp, he couldn't count the number of times he had to save you on Dutch's behalf.

Just like now, when he cut with a knife the thick rope with which those damn O'Driscols tied you to the tree trunk.

“You just need to get into all the trouble you can, aren’t ya?”

Arthur grumbled under his breath, listening to the scrape of the blade along the fibers of the rope, the snoring of the bandits and your drunken muttering.