♢♡Craig♡♢

We've been walking for about ten minutes now, passing slaves at work and admiring the plants. "How large are the fields, Brian?" I ask, interrupting his conversation with Brock. "Uuh, I don't quite know, sir. Quite large, I reckon, biggest in the state" Brian tells us, getting a low whistle from Jonathan. Evan snickers as Luke rolls his eyes and we continue walking. "Lord, is it always so foggy?" I've asked the question twice today but it's so humid I've been made to undo my tie and squint to see.

"A storm. I'm telling ya!" Jonathan proclaims proudly. "Gosh Jon last time you had a feeling in your bones you broke one" Luke sounds exasperated, and I can see why. Brock and Evan burst out laughing as Jonathan grumbles, while I just snicker. I wonder what it'd be like to have a brother. "I wonder if your hearin' a real storm comin' or not" Brock says calmly, kicking a stone and watching it skitter away.

"What do you mean? Ain't there only one kind'a storm?" Evan asks, peering at Brock over his shoulder. "Well, y'see, there's, ah, what's the word, metaphorical storms!" Brian grins at his vocabulary. "Like, somp'thins bad is gonna happen but we don' know what yet" He explains, kicking another rock and narrowly missing a slave kneeling at the roots of a cotton plant. "Gee, ain't many bad things that can happen 'round here I reckon" Jonathan says, his brother backing him up. "Yea', we got it pretty good"

We fall back into our separate conversations after that, but Evan doesn't seem interested in me anymore. He starts walking backwards and joins Jonathan's and Luke's conversation, so Luke jogs a little so he can stand next to me. "Don' mind Evan, 'e's jus' a picky eater, as my pa say" Luke tells me, and I feel a little better at that. "So, tell me more about y'self. I know more about ya parents then I do you" Luke laughs lightly, just enough to make it look like he isn't prodding. He is.

"Well ah, I'm seventeen, turning in a month and a half. I was born in London, England but the business is better and New America, so father brought us over on the boat. That was less then a week ago, honest" I tell, which seems funny. But that's right, I've only been here for three or four days. "Golly" Luke murmurs, and that's when I realize our pack has gone quiet. Not a nice quiet though, it hang thick in the air, too heavy to open out months.

"The storms' a'comin'" Jonathan proclaims under his breath, and I look back to see him visibly shudder. Evan frowns and throws his jacket over Jonathan, which is one or two sizes too big. "I... I believe Mister Jonathan is right, sir. I think it'd be best if we turned around, not to be caught in the rain" Brian says, wringing his hands together. "No, the end of the field can't be far now can it? Are you scared of a little rain, boys?"

"Now who there's that?" Brock says, stopping in the middle of the path only for Evan to knock into him, but neither fall. "Why, I dunno" Luke answers, peering through the fog. Jonathan elbows everyone out of the way and looks to. "Too pale to be a nigger" He voices, but we all already knew that. "Sirs, I think it'd be best if we turned around-" I cut Brian off and waves my hand at him. "Silence, Brian"

A shoot of smoke fires into the air from the man's mouth and Jonathan scoffs. "That right there is Tyler Wilde, on your property"