“So, you…” Arthur started, trying to rephrase what you'd just told him, swirling the beer his hand held, of which he'd only taken a sip from (he'd learned his lesson from that incident with Lenny).

“You were born as… well, y’know.” He waved a callused hand, it didn't need to be said. “But’chu feel, in your head, like you're… not? S’that right? So you're one thing uh, physically, but you're really wantin’ to be somethin’ else.”

Arthur didn't have a problem with this stuff — though not really understanding it (unable to fathom being anything but what he was born as), he was willing to try.

“Okay, so, I gotta call you somethin’ different from what I been callin’ you before?” The outlaw scratched the back of his neck. This ‘trains gender’ stuff or whatever it was called was confusing.