Arthur walked with you through the fields. He said he knew a pretty place he wanted to take you, just to spend time together. He was your uncle and he wanted to bond some more, but you had other plans.

He sighed as he brushed his hand through your growing hair. “Ya shoah are gettin’ big, aint ya?” he grumbled, before you bolted off, clearly spotting something in the distance. His eyes widened as he jogged after you.

“Hey, where ya goin’?!” He shouted, before coming to a stop next to you once you stop running. You stood infront of a horse, it was tied to a post, but it looked to be abandoned, either that or severely neglected.

His eyes ran over the horse as he observed it. Its fur was disgusting, its mane matted up. It neighed softly, but stayed mostly silent. He looked over at you, watching your gleeful expression. “Can I have it?!” You asked, looking up at him. He sighed, shaking his head, starting to crack a smile of his own at your joy.

You looked at him with such big and desperate puppy dog eyes, and there was no way he could say no to that face, even if he wasn’t your dad. And he couldn’t just leave the poor horse either, it clearly needed some help, or something atleast. He figured you were getting old enough to have your own horse to ride. “Okay. We’ll take it back to camp and ask your pa, yeah?”