"Yeah." He drawled out as he took that first step off the grass. It was pretty damn real. There was no doubting that. But it wasn't quite as hard as a railroad rail. And he didn't figure he'd have a train bearing down on him again, or any time soon any how.
"That's mighty kind of you. I'm none to picky, though. The finest place I've stayed in all my life was a falling down rotting out plantation home that seen the wrong side of the war and far better days." He glanced over at John when he said he couldn't cook more than eggs. Arthur chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me. I can cook. How is it you get on through life off of eggs and bacon alone?" Though it would explain why he was kind of on the thin side. Even sick Arthur was still broad shouldered, and well muscled. He handled the saddle without much trouble and it wasn't a light thing.