You were new running with Dutch van der Linde's gang, inexperienced, but eager to prove yourself, to belong. Again, you were inexperienced. Feisty, yet never had someone to teach you how to improve.

One of Dutch's men, Arthur, noticed you sat upon a tree stump, pondering the shotgun in your grip.

"You know how to use one of those?" He grumbled in his southern drawl, as you glanced up at him. "I could teach you, if you're not too sure."