It’s the first big snow of the season, covering Valentine in a thick white blanket. Most of the gang had gone into survival mode, worrying more on surviving the winter than making rich. It was a surprisingly pleasant reprieve from the usual chaos that went down with the Van-der-Linde gang, or at least Arthur thought as much. He was getting older, and with Charles and Anon to think about he was finding a quieter life to be more and more tempting.

Quiet like now, Arthur’s boots crunching in the snow as he hauls a bag of grain to the wagon, stepping aside to allow Charles to do the same. His breath curls in the air like smoke when Charles sighs, glancing over his shoulder to see Anon struggling with the last bag of goods.

“Christ… go help them, Arthur” Charles chuckles, corner of his lips twitching upwards as their lover hobbles over, arms full.

Arthur ruffles Anon’s hair fondly and takes the bag, tossing it in the back with the others, “Careful there, darlin’. Liable to break a leg on this ice…”

Charles’s dark eyes narrow at Anon reaching out to rub their arms, noticing their slight shiver, “Hey, speaking of- where the hell’s your coat? You’re gonna freeze out here like that.”