What's with *all* the bugs in this forest?

  Stephen shook his **tall riding boots**, **trying to dislodge** a colorful centipede that had been crawling on his shoe.

  Just looking at the centipede, with its vibrant colors, told him a bite could take half your life.

  "What's the deal with this forest? Why are there so many bugs?"

  Stephen felt goosebumps rising all over his body.

  He'd been in this world for two years, mostly hanging out in the Heartlands or the forests around Strawberry.

  This was his first time in Tall Trees, and it was quite the eye-opener.

  The Heartlands were naturally comfortable with a pleasant climate.

  Sure, there were some bugs, but nothing beyond what a person could handle.

  And the forests near Strawberry, while dense and full of trees, were cold year-round because of their proximity to the Grizzlies West. Snakes and bugs were rare sights.

  "It's always like this here."

  Charles pulled a packet of white powder from his pocket and sprinkled it around the campfire.

  The powder mixed with the flames, releasing a foul odor.

  "This stuff stinks, but it keeps the bugs away."

  Charles handed the packet to Stephen, motioning for him to spread some around where he was sitting.

  "You seem to know a lot about surviving in the wild."

  Stephen asked curiously as he copied Charles, spreading the powder around his area.

  "Yeah, I learned a lot with my tribe when I was a kid."

  Charles said calmly, "Every Native *did* have to learn these things, or we wouldn't survive."

  Charles' tone was calm, but Stephen sensed a hint of sorrow.

  If they could live peacefully, how many people would want to learn this?

  After resting for a bit, Charles clapped his hands on his knees and stood up.

  He pointed to the horse grazing nearby, "We should probably brush the horses a little. They get sick easily in this weather."

  He pulled a small brush and a clean towel from his bag, brushing his horse's coat and wiping the sweat from its neck.

  If the weather felt hot to people, it must be unbearable for horses with their thick coats.

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  Hearing Charles' words, Stephen smacked his forehead.

  He'd been so focused on his own comfort that he'd forgotten about the big guy.

  Stephen stood up and started taking care of his own horse.

  Horses were precious, and if you didn't take good care of them, they'd lose weight and get sick.

  Taking care of them required a lot of work and attention.

  Stephen watched Charles brush his horse, and the horse licked his face. He couldn't help but smile.

  "You two have a great bond."

  "Taima has been with me for a long time. He's like family."

  Charles patted his beloved horse on the head, a gentle smile **playing** on his face.

  After brushing the horses, they sat down to rest.

  Stephen took a small pot from his saddle and boiled some water, sipping it slowly by the fire.

  He wouldn't dare drink raw water in this western environment. Who knew what kind of viruses or chemicals might be lurking in it?

  "Why are you helping us so much?"

  Suddenly, Charles looked at Stephen with a serious expression.

  Stephen stared at him in surprise, unsure why he was asking.

  "I mean, this has nothing to do with you."

  Charles organized his thoughts before speaking slowly, "You've only been with us for a few days, you don't know Sean. You're not even that familiar with us. Why are you working so hard to help us?"

  As Charles said, this really had nothing to do with Stephen.

  Even if he refused Dutch's request, Dutch wouldn't say anything.

  But Stephen had come, and not only that, but he was willing to take such a big risk to find a boat.

  This puzzled Charles, he didn't understand.

  Charles was an honest man, so if he didn't understand something, he'd just ask.

  Stephen didn't answer immediately but took a sip of water.

  He seemed to be considering how to word his thoughts accurately.

  Charles wasn't in a hurry and just looked at him quietly. After a while, Stephen spoke slowly.

  "Because I want revenge."

  Stephen put down his cup and looked at Charles seriously, "I want to **bring down** those O'Driscoll gang scum, but I can't do it alone."

  "So, I need someone to help me. It's that simple."

  Charles was still confused. He continued, "But you know about our feud with the O'Driscoll gang. We're going after them whether you're here or not."

  Stephen shook his head, "It's not the same."

  "I'm not very smart, and I'm not good at talking. I can't figure out some complicated things."

  "But I know one simple truth: you reap what you sow."

  He looked at Charles' dark face seriously, "If I help you now, you'll help me later. Right?"

  Charles nodded solemnly, "That's right, I'll help you."

  Stephen couldn't help but laugh, "That's it then. I don't think anyone is good to you for no reason. Even if they are, it's out of kindness."

  "But we can't keep taking advantage of other people's kindness. I should help as much as I can within my capabilities."

  Stephen patted his long knife and gun as he spoke, "If my sincerity can be exchanged for sincerity, then everything is fine. If it can't, then I'll use my knife and gun to get my sincerity back."

  Charles looked at Stephen, and even his usually expressionless face showed a slight smile.

  "You're a very insightful person. That's rare."

  "Yeah, being insightful is easier said than done. How many people can actually do it?"

  Stephen drew his knife and started sharpening it slowly with a whetstone.

  "That's just how the world is. I never try to guess other people's motives with malice. So, I don't like people guessing my motives with malice either."

  "The reason I'm willing to join you, willing to be with you, is because you're all good people in some way."

  Maybe they were all outlaws, robbers, and murderers, each with a notorious reputation as a wanted criminal.

  But Stephen didn't think it was their fault.

  The fault lay with the environment, the harsh conditions of the West, and the lack of personal safety and security.

  In terms of how they treated their friends and brothers, Stephen could feel a sense of security that was hard to find in the West.

  Neither of them spoke again, each doing their own thing.

  They rested until nightfall, then packed up and prepared to leave.

  It was still a bit risky for Charles to be out during the day, but it was much safer at night.