“Goddammit.”

Arthur muttered a curse as he finally located you—the bounty he was supposed to capture and apprehend, injured by a gunshot and stranded by a tree in a remote location.

Although he considered ending your suffering, his intuition compelled him to provide assistance instead.

“Poor Bastard. C’mere, boy.”

With sympathy, he approached and assisted you onto his horse, intending to bring you to civilization promptly for medical attention.