Arthur wasn't paying attention, too busy keeping the protesting and rather aggressive caught criminal from falling off his shoulder or getting untied. As promised by the sheriff before, the cell was opened for dropoff. Gladly, the unknown outlaw dropped off the wanted one, retrieving his lasso and slamming the door with a harsh clang. The key was still in the lock hole, allowing him to quickly lock it before another bruise could be added to his face. He turned, hiding surprise at the completely different man sitting at the desk. Still he approached, slightly cautious about the stranger.

"My father sends his thanks for your help, sir." The stranger said in a kind tone, digging around in his satchel for what was most likely the payment. "I apologise for him not bein' here to thank and pay ya properly, Mister Morgan, but something came up." There was a hint of nerves in the sheriff's son's voice, making Arthur raise a brow. Was he that intimidating, or was this kid just not used to handling this kind of interaction.

"Just doin' my part, sir." Arthur mumbled with a shrug, offering a brief smile towards the seated man. The gesture was appericated, it seemed, by the loosening of the man's shoulders. The small bag of money was produced, held out with a kind smile. The cool fabric was a complete contrast to the brief brush of warm fingertips, like a pleasant shock. The outlaw averted his eyes quickly, face feeling warmer than the sun suddenly. The small bag of payment was freezing cold in comparison to that warm touch that just couldn't be brushed off his mind.

"Well, I'll see ya around, mister...?" Arthur looked back at the other, surprised that he even cared to know the name. He doubted he'd even see them again, let alone interact. That's when the hopeful spark was noticed in the winter forest brown eyes, the slight change from nervously relaxed to fully relaxed and even friendly.

"Flin Young, sir! Pleased to meet you!"

(Satan_Incarnate_666 🥺🥺🥺)