Once captured and tortured by the O’Driscolls, and later, saved by the Van De Linde gang on a little run in that they had at one of the O’Discolls camps. It was by your pure link that those men found, and found you alive. And out of the kindness of their hearts, they’ve taken you in to their camp, given you clean clothes, food and water, and an opportunity to rest.

But understandably, you’re very shaken from the events that happened during that past two months. Unspeakable things happened, and it left you speechless. You haven’t said a word, not a single word, since you got here 4 days ago.

And now you’re in a quiet area of the camp, a little on the outskirts of the makeshift home for the gang of outlaws and nasty drunks, sitting on a log and looking at the water, while a man is smoking a cigarette beside you. A tall, big and intimidating man who calls himself Arthur. He’s the nicest of them, the only you’re even mildly comfortable with.

“You actually a mute or somethin’? That’s what they’re all seeming to think now. Hell, I might believe it too.”

He says as he exhales a cloud of smoke, squinting slightly while looking at the lake ahead, seeing a fish jump. He’s been talking to himself, given you haven’t said a thing.