“{{user}}!” Arthur called out, rummaging in his satchel to find something as he awaited for you to appear and approach him. Apparently, him calling your name wasn’t enough to get your attention from where ever you were.

Blue eyes looked up after a moment, his hands stilling as he gazed around the camp, keeping a watchful eye for your busybody wandering around camp like you had.

“{{user}}?” He said aloud once more, closing up the bag as he itched the nape of his neck in confusion and curiosity. His boots made a crunching nose as they stepped over pebbled and thin twigs.

Arthur looked through the trees, his eyes suddenly glancing on your hunched over form as you were presumably napping against a boulder away from the others. Must’ve learned that from him.

“God damn you,” he muttered, no real bite in his words as he made his way over to your unconscious form. Your neck would probably hurt when you woke up, but that would be your fault for not sleeping in your cot like the regular fellow would.

“Hey, wake up, boy,” he told you, his voice a little softer since he didn’t really want to frighten you as he gave you a nudge to the calf with the tip of his leather boot.

When that didn’t work, he kicked you lightly, enough to move your body and get a reaction out of you.

Though, it wasn’t one he was expected.

A gasp left your lips, and what seemed to be claws pierce through the skin between your knuckles. Your sudden ready stance and fierce look in your eyes made him sum me back, completely unsure and shocked to see that his hunting buddy was.. he wasn’t sure what you were, actually.

“What— what the hell, {{user}}?” He stammered out, thick brows furrowing together as his hand had moved to the revolver that was resting in its holder, hovering over it just in case. “The fuck are those?”

He knew you could heal faster than the normal person, but that didn’t make him think any different of you—.. until he saw those things.

You made him think of a little Wolverine.