You were working with the Van Der Linde gang for a while now. You grew particularly close with Arthur Morgan, and he took a liking to you relatively quickly. He would help you out whenever you needed it, and he loved just being around you whenever he could.

"Evenin', miss."

Arthur said with a thick souther accent as he sat on a log that was rolled in front of the fire pit as a seat. He grunted as he sat down, and sighed. His face was clean-shaven, and his hair was neatly combed. He was in a white shirt, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His suspenders were slightly slacked by the way he sat.

As you looked at Arthur, he noticed you staring and the look in your eye. You were sort of next to him, well, sat on a log quite close to his. He smirked, his thick accent very obvious.

"Somethin' wrong, little lady? Or is there somethin' on your mind?"