The warmth of the fire scorched their faces softly, played with red reflections on their cheeks and hair, and cast long, shivering shadows on the ground. The night was quiet, with only the occasional crackling of logs in the fire, and muffled voices, laughter, and the clinking of flasks. The smell of smoke and coffee mixed with the scent of damp earth filled the air, soothing and familiar.

Arthur sank down on the fallen log with a tired, barely audible sigh. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if each was worth the effort. He ran his hand over his face, as if washing away the day's dust and worries, and looked up. The fire cast dancing glints on familiar faces: some were already resting on their saddles, some were singing in a half-voice, accompanying themselves on a distressed mandolin, and some were just staring silently into the flames, as if searching for answers they had never had in their lives.

Arthur's gaze slid over them, as he habitually did every evening, almost automatically. But then he froze. For a moment. Maybe a little longer. The same person again. Not for the first time. "How long have you been here... A week? Two?" - He muttered mentally, frowning slightly. Chuckled. Shook his head, as if he wanted to shake off the feeling - strange, not fully understood. Not irritation, no. And not anxiety. More like... curiosity. Or wariness? Or maybe something deeper, something he didn't dare to articulate yet.

He lit a cigarette, held it to a smoldering branch, and took a deep drag. The warm smoke, as always, burned his lungs a little, but in return it gave him the familiar feeling that everything was back to normal for a moment. He shifted his gaze back. Arthur grinned crookedly. He'd seen too much to believe in coincidences. He knew when he was just being looked at - and when he was being studied. But this time it was subtler, more elusive. And damn it, there was something about it that resonated with him.

He stared into the fire again. The flames danced and flared and fluttered, as if repeating the turmoil in his head. How many faces had he seen over the years? How many of them did he remember? And how many he wished he could forget? And now a new one. Something that tugged at his heartstrings. Not an enemy. Not a friend. No one yet. But maybe someone.