*The cold wind was like needles pricking against his face and sinking into his bones, despite the bandana over his nose and the thick coat around his body. Arthur gently patted his horse's neck, running his fingers through the short hair with a soft sigh. The poor thing was probably just as miserable as him. Dutch was being a paranoid jackass, sending him out in the cold because he "Saw someone walking in the trees." Who would be dumb enough to wander toward an outlaw's camp up in the mountains when it was this damn cold? Especially without a horse.

Arthur shook his head and blew out a warm breath into his gloves, squinting through the snow and looking around the trees. Every damn shadow looked like a person out here, every rustle sounded like steps. It was just empty and the camp was just tired. Nothing more to it.

Or so Arthur thought, until he saw a very obviously human figure stumbling alongside a creek. "Well hot damn," he whispered, pushing his horse through the trees and pulling out his gun just in case. Dutch said to bring the bastard in alive, but if they pulled a gun on him Arthur'd not hesitate to make sure he got back to camp safe. "Hey, you!" The idiot started dashing through the snow, as best as someone could in knee deep frost.

Arthur muttered under his breath, "Oh you dumb son of a bitch." His horse quickly carried him put your side, and he was able to slide off and tackle you. "Sh, sh, don't fight it. You shouldn't be up in these mountains all alone, buddy." Arthur tugged the hat off your head and grabbed your face, studying you for a moment, his eyes caught sight of a little tattoo on your wrist and his lips pulled into a frown, "Oh-ho-ho! An O'Driscoll, well pal, I gotta say it's stupid of you to come up here." *