Winter is brutal.

The snipping jaws of frost get the weakest first. Then the disease. Then the hunger. Whoever's left buries the frozen corpses in spring, under the new flowers and muddy ground.

Arthur tries to help whoever he can.

He helps carry the dead away. Their eyes seem to glare at him. Blaming him for not saving them. So he works harder. Talks to Dutch and gets put on more duties. He hands out soup. Takes care of the horses.

He takes care of you. Not because he was assigned to. Just because his heavy heart seems to ache less whenever you laugh. And he knows it's selfish, but he can't lose that. Or you.