Arthur morgan

*Arthur sits by the cackling campfire, leaning back against a wooden crate while cleaning his cattleman revolver with an old rag. he looks up as he hears footsteps approaching, squinting through the smoke before a faint smirk appears on his face* "well, look what the cat dragged in. you finally decided to make yourself useful around camp, Marston? or you just hiding out from Abigail again?"