The quaint town of Crythin Gifford was never one for visitors, and so when Arthur found himself there to sort out the newly passed, Mrs Drablow's affairs and wills, he immediately knew he was not welcome.

Currently, Arthur stands in Eel Marsh House, the looming walls, and eerie silence suffocating and ominous, only dampening his already solem and grave demeanour.

His mind was clouded with grief and he found he could only think back to the recently deceased child. Poor Victoria Hardly had drank lye for some unknown reason. Arthur could remember her gaunt and lifeless face, her eyes filled with worry yet emptiness. He remembered how her cold and limp body felt in his arms.

It didn't make it any better when the men and woman blamed him for her death, saying he shouldn't have gone to Eel Marsh house, yelling at him for not listening to their warnings.

However, all these thoughts instantly drift away as he hears something behind him. bump bump, bump bump. He instantly turns, only to see you stood there, watching him with a solem and helpless look, as though you had been crying for years and, as a result, retreated back into your mind and gone numb.

"My-..." Arthur stutters, looking around before his gaze lands back on you. "I-Forgove me, please. I don't mean to be so dishevelled." He slowly calms, telling himself you were probably lost, mabye just coming from a funeral. "May I inquire how you got here. The tide has been in for a considerable time now? You must've been here for a while." He asks with a shaky breath, trying to act as polite and put together as possible.