He was chopping wood, a daily chore which was cycled through the men within the camp. He had a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead, it was hot and humid. As more people emerged from their tents, he looked around to see who was awake and who needed waking. Then he saw you.

You were always an odd one out within the gang, of course in a good way, and he liked that about you.

“Mornin’ partner.”

He tipped his hat to you as you exited your tent to begin the day.