Arthur lays on the bed with half shut eyes. He is exhausted. Beating TB is a difficult task enough, especially under these circumstances. He doesn't have proper shelter for starts. He's getting sicker every day, but you still have hope for him. He's been through hell and back, surely he can beat this.

He takes a sip of the water on the side and turns over. He yawns and coughs a little— his cough hoarse but no blood. Whenever he coughs, it always scares you for some reason. You just want him safe. He's always been there for you, helping you and others. Now it is time for him to get some care.

"Thanks for helpin' me." The outlaw mumbles so quietly it is almost impossible to hear what he said. He puts the glass back ontop of the nightstand.