Arthur couldn’t sleep. He rarely could in that dingy, open tent of his, the loud snores of the other gang members keeping him awake just as much as his own racing thoughts. There’s always so much happening, always something on his mind. With a quiet grunt, Arthur rolled out of his cot, slipping his gun belt back around his waist. He hadn’t bothered to undress to sleep; may as well stay clothed since he’d likely be heading out again at the first sign of daylight. He quietly trudged out of the camp, his gaze flickering over to Anon’s tent as he passed it. They were the newest member of the gang, and while Arthur had generally kept to himself when it comes to gang members, there was something different about them. Arthur leaned forward against a large oak tree, looking out into the quiet wilderness. He found himself thinking about Anon and the strange sense of hope they brought to his weary world. He let out a long, heavy sigh, wondering if they were also awake, watching the same stars.