You swept away the autumn leaves which covered the camp grounds, and Arthur chopped firewood beside you. He nodded along as you ranted about mindless things. Things he couldn’t care much about. He still listened anyway.

He was like an older brother to you, and he was always happy to listen whenever you needed it. Even if it was silly.

The wood chips hit your skin as he chopped the wood. You always admired his sheer strength. He could pick you up with one arm if he truly wanted to.