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| Dogs' Dinner; tagging Alex! | |
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| Topic Started: 29 Dec 2007, 05:30 AM (232 Views) | |
| Ataá | 29 Dec 2007, 05:30 AM Post #1 |
Deckhand
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The sun had gone down and because it was too dark to work now the field hands had all come in, the rows of slave huts in the distance were full of men and women now. But they were quiet, there wasn't any talking although there were lights in a few of them. Ataá glanced at the little low buildings each one made of a flimsy structure of wattle and daub over her shoulder as she came down the steps of the impressive white building of the Great House. Beyond them she could see the low hulking shapes of the other buildings. The stables, the mill where the cane was crushed, the boiling house where it was clarified to crystallized sugar, the distillery where some of it was made into rum, the curing sheds, the overseer's house, the blacksmiths and coopers. The plantation had so many buildings on it that it was practically a small self contained village. It certainly had enough people since there were about two hundred slaves on the plantation. Past the buildings were the fields which lay very close to the slave huts so that their work would be more efficient. There was work all year around in the fields since like any clever plantation owner Mr. Greeley had his fields on rotation. Some of the plots were fallow and others had the growth of young cane on them and of course always some had adult cane that was ready to be harvested. It took a lot of planning to do it all and a very methodical mind to keep the plantation running smoothly. Mr. Greeley was one of the richest sugar plantation owners in the area. He was a perfect businessman. It was all very familiar to Ataá so none of these thoughts came to her while she was looking at it, it was just a casual glance for her. But for the stranger coming onto the plantation it must be an impressive sight. All the misery and human suffering behind the plantation was concealed behind a regular efficient clockwork rhythm. The amount of sugar produced by the clockwork was tremendous and extremely profitable. Sometimes the organization failed a little bit though. That had happened to Ataá, because of her pregnancy she had been taken off of field duty. But there was not really any need for an extra hand in the house either so she wound up doing many different odd jobs. She never knew what she would be asked to do next, sometimes she waited on the table at dinner, sometimes she washed the household laundry and sometimes she waited on the mistress or one of the daughters as a lady's maid. This evening after she had waited on the table at dinner Mr. Greeley had decided that he wanted to send the bones from the roast to his dogs. Mr. Greeley was very proud and very fond of his dogs. So Ataá was carrying the table scraps in a basket, not only the bones but the gristle parts, the offal and even some of the good meat all covered over in leftover gravy. She approached the long building that held the dogs. It was made of wood and each dog had a comfortable shelter to retreat into, it was raised slightly off the ground so that when it rained the animals could get out of the wet. She walked along the little walkway that ran along the front of the kennels. Each dog was chained inside of their kennel, as she came to the first one the dog raised its head rattling the heavy chain and gave a half muffled rumbling noise of recognition. These dogs knew her pretty well, she had come out to them before. They wouldn't attack her without being ordered to. They were huge animals though, part mastiff and part bloodhound. Mr. Greeley had ten of them and he used them for hunting. Usually he used them for hunting animals but sometimes he used them for hunting escaped slaves. On Greeley's command they would attack anyone. Even the slave who fed them every day. Their viciousness was controlled but if they were let loose they could rip a man apart in seconds. As she took out one of the bones from the roast the dog pricked up its large flopping ears and then got to its feet. It had a broad face and enormous jaws, massive corded muscles flowed underneath its glossy reddish brown coat. When she flipped the mutton femur into the kennel it moved once snapping its head and caught the bone in its teeth. It settled back down quickly and began to gnaw at the bone which audibly cracked under the pressure of those huge jaws. Ataá moved on to the second kennel and took out another bone. She had been up and on her feet all day and she hadn't eaten anything since that morning, she could have eaten the dogs' dinner and have been happy. In fact the temptation was so strong as she smelled the meat in her basket that she pried off a strip of meat clinging to the shank bone and shoved it in her mouth as she tossed the bone to the second dog in line. It was just then that she heard something strange rustle around behind the other end of the kennel. Ataá froze in place. |
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| Alexander Hurst | 29 Dec 2007, 06:52 PM Post #2 |
Able Seaman
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There were many strategies that were employed for pulling off a job. Alexander, being the well-experience thief he was, knew almost all of them and invented his own on top of it. Though the plantation he had chosen for his next target was indeed large and had many buildings, it was no different from any other plantation. Every single one had a clear separation of living styles...it normally ranked from best to worst: owner, dogs, slaves. The very thought of humans being treated as animals sent an unhappy wave of anger through his entire being. Alexander Hurst had been born in the wrong century, he thought...surely there would be a time when men did not claim to own other men. It made perfect sense to him...but then again, a great many ideas made sense to him that no one else seemed to agree with. Thus, plantations and their widespread mistreatment of dark-skinned people were he favorite targets to steal from. With his sense of justice as his guide, he walked to the dog kennels. Every plantation had them, vicious animals who would be just as happy to kill as to play with a person. Still, to someone who saw everything at it's core, they were just animals...and every animal could be swayed. All it took was time. The first night Alex ventured into the Greeley sugar cane plantation, the dogs had raised an alarm and he had to run...but night after night, with food as his method of persuasion, he had begun to seep in and get them used to him. This was his thirteenth night visiting the Greeley plantation. He was getting used to the surroundings...and since the dogs were so heavily relied upon for a first-response, he was able to sneak around and study the buildings with relative ease. Not that there wasn't the occasional close call...he'd almost been seen by slaves and watchmen before. After the first ten nights, however, he had begun to know the routine. He'd know just where to strike and at what time. For now, though, the dogs were his main concern. His dirty-blond hair picked up a dull glint of gold in the moonlight as he went in one of the kennels, carrying a large sack of meat. The dog wagged it's tail. Big and scary as it was, the dog, who he had named Grull, seemed to be able to enjoy his presence. Grull was by far his favorite of the dogs, though there were two others he held a special liking for. Alexander gave the dog a large hunk of meat (which he had stolen from the butcher just hours before). He gave Grull a pat on the head and smiled as the dog ate up the meat without hesitation. It wasn't long before the dog was looking up at him with what Alex imagined to be admiration. He was convinced that animals had an extra sense and knew who was friendly and who was not. It just took time to un-train their trained response to his presence. This night, however, as he was getting another hunk of meat out for the next dog, he emerged to find a woman standing on the ledge of the kennel, frozen in place. The "master" must have been feeling generous towards his dogs this particular night, much to his dismay. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her off so she could raise the alarm. Since he couldn't have her run, he'd have to make sure she stayed right were she was. Without warning, he dropped the sack of stolen meat and rushed at her, wrapping his hand around one arm while the other put his index finger to her lips. His blue eyes were wide, but not angry as he spoke, "Shhh, now. Don't make a sound." She would have to comply. If she didn't he'd have to run, then wait a month or two and start all over. Which was something he hoped very much to avoid. |
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| Ataá | 30 Dec 2007, 04:07 PM Post #3 |
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Deckhand
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Ataá stood stock still her eyes were the only thing that moved in the darkness looking for the source of the sound. But then a man appeared out of one of the kennels a little further down the line. She had hardly a chance to see him before he dropped the bag he was holding and closed the distance between them with a few quick steps catching hold of her arm in a tight grip. She went rigid but didn't make any other move as he put his other hand to her face, she had no idea what he was going to do. She thought he was about to hit her and in voluntarily twitched back from the expected blow but then he put his finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. She held still and kept quiet making no move to free herself. What else was she going to do? The punishment for striking a white person depended on the owner but she knew what Greeley did. One slave's nose had been slit down the center and his face had been burned with hot irons. Because he had an indomitable spirit and pride the second time the slave struck a white man he had been hung. If Greeley was feeling merciful the punishment might maybe just be a severe whipping. He might be more careful of her because he wanted a child out of her but Greeley never took rebellion lightly a slave owner could never afford to let it pass by. She didn't know who this man was or what he was doing here but his skin was white, his hair was blond and the shape of his face showed plain English heritage. If she struggled he could have her disfigured and mutilated. Knowing that though and because of it she didn't dare to fight him at all, she stared at him with blank confused eyes. She didn't know who he was, she hadn't ever seen him before. What was he doing coming around here? A friend of the Greeleys or of the white overseer who also lived on the plantation? He wasn't well dressed and the Greeleys only had the very best society as visitors. The overseer wasn't always quite that picky. His eyes were wide and he was staring down at her like he was trying to communicate something. "Shhh, now. Don't make a sound." She didn't, she only stared back at him out of eyes even wider than his for a moment before her eyes narrowed to make her face an empty mask again. Pleading never worked and only excited a certain sort of man and he had just told her to shut up. But her free hand went to touch her abdomen where she felt the baby kick again as if it had sensed her sudden fear and reacted to it. For the time she had been pregnant she had been safe from any man's touch, the drivers had been told to keep their hands off her. Mr. Greeley was afraid it would cause a miscarriage. She could not say no to a white man though, especially not a friend of the overseer. He could do anything he wanted to her and she couldn't stop him. Terror for her baby flooded her, she knew how fragile the bond within her could be and how easily what she carried inside of her could die. She was ugly to most Englishmen, too dark for their eyes and the baby made her figure something any man white or black wouldn't desire. But why else did he hold her and tell her to be quiet? Most men liked a woman to be quiet. Ataá drew in one sharp breath that stilted as if it was catching in her throat. |
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| Alexander Hurst | 30 Dec 2007, 06:38 PM Post #4 |
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Able Seaman
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The fear that emanated from this woman made Alexander sick to his stomach. If there was another way to ensure her to be quiet he would have taken it. Still, with a gentler hold of her arm, he nodded and gave her one of his most charming smiles. "Thank you. If you'd have raised an alarm I'd be in quite a bit of trouble." His blue eyes watched her face carefully. There was a dullness in her eyes that he had seen time and time again. People in her situation were treated worse than he was...and neither of them were fitting of a human being. Though for a moment, her eyes held a resolute gleam. It struck him...whatever it was, she had something to protect and he was not the sort of man to deny anyone of that. "I'm trying to feed the dogs, you see. So that when I come back in a few nights and steal some of the sugar cane...and perhaps other various things...these fine beasts won't be bothered with me being here." He winked at her, "Just in case you wondered what I was doing here so late." He barely spoke above a whisper, but his attitude was suddenly much more carefree than it had been just moments ago. Above all, he was relieved she had not tried to struggle or get away. Still, he couldn't have her running off now. He moved his hand from her arm to her back and led her to where the bag of stolen meat lay. Alex had a feeling she would stay with him, she seemed frozen in fear even now...but just in case she tried to break away, he would keep her close as he could. "I take it you're giving Greeley's dogs a treat, then." He reached down into the bag and pulled out a good-sized hunk of meat, looked inside the kennel next to Grull's and then back at the woman again. "How about you give that to Bosco, instead?" (For Bosco was his name for that particular dog.) He held the meat out to her, trying to see how she would react and how much he could trust her. |
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| Ataá | 8 Jan 2008, 10:43 PM Post #5 |
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Deckhand
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He didn't let her go instead he held onto her, but his hand loosened on her arm a little, and still she didn't dare to draw back and pull herself away. Ataá stayed as stiff as if she was frozen solid, when he smiled at her that did not calm her at all. His face was friendly but that meant nothing. Mr. Greeley's overseer could smile like a lighthouse and talk about shoe fashions while a man was beaten to the point of death in front of him. A smile was a very easy thing to do and it could mean a lot of different things. Ataá stayed quiet, too. He had ordered her to shut up. But her eyes widened slightly, the only thing that moved in her wooden face when he began to talk in a low whisper. "Thank you. If you'd have raised an alarm I'd be in quite a bit of trouble." What did that mean? What was he here for? He was staring at her face with bright blue eyes like a searchlight, she only met them for an instant before she kept her own eyes down and away. You didn't ever raise your gaze to a white man, they hated that in a slave. She felt a sick sensation in her stomach as he looked at her face with that careful calculating stare. "I'm trying to feed the dogs, you see. So that when I come back in a few nights and steal some of the sugar cane...and perhaps other various things...these fine beasts won't be bothered with me being here. Just in case you wondered what I was doing here so late." Just like that the wind changed and the situation was turned totally around. What? Stealing? He was a thief sneaking around the plantation? He had to be joking because who announced it like that if they were? The instincts that had been trained into her through years of slavery led her to follow the direction he gave her with his hand on her back. Ataá moved stiffly, like a robot. She didn't know anymore what dangers this might hold for her. Just a second ago she thought she knew what she was threatened with but now she had lost even that guiding light. If he was a thief and he announced it so clearly he might intend to kill her. She had a good look at his face and she could identify him as a criminal. Now she was a witness. Unless he was joking and then what did that mean? What kind of game was he playing? He was staying close to her, his body oppresively near hers, she curled around herself unconsciously and rested her hands on her swollen belly as if that could somehow protect her child from anything he might do. "I take it you're giving Greeley's dogs a treat, then. How about you give that to Bosco, instead?" His voice was friendly but again a man's voice could be kind and his meaning be completely different. You could never judge by appearances. She took the meat from his hand after he held it in front of her. Who was Bosco? The dog in the kennel? She didn't know any of their names, she never had and never cared either. Why was he telling her to do that? She knelt down, slightly clumsy and she threw the piece of meat into the kennel he had been looking at. The dog's eyes gleamed at her out of the darkness and then it stepped forward into the shaft of moonlight and picked up the meat. Then it retreated back into the kennel. Ataá stayed kneeling after she had done that. She turned her neck but did not look up at the stranger and kept her head bowed. "What do you want with me, master?" He could take offense at that because he could be angry that she hadn't guessed his desires. But she did not know the right thing to do now. |
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| Alexander Hurst | 11 Jan 2008, 04:04 AM Post #6 |
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Able Seaman
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Alexander looked at the slave woman with complete compassion in his stark, blue eyes. He didn't know what it was like to be her. He didn't want to know. In fact, he'd spent most of his life making sure he had no ties to anyone or anything. It was awkward of him to be in her company and it almost made him quiet...almost. She timidly, and without any grace in her movements, fed the dog as she was bidden. His brow furrowed, worriedly as he noticed her hands move to her middle. "Oh, for the love...you're pregnant!" Alex spoke in a whisper, but the surprise in his voice was not diminished by it. Now, looking at her in a new light, he could see there was a quiet fire lit behind her eyes. She was a mother, or would soon be. How could he have not seen it before? "What do you want with me, master?" Her words hit him like an arrow, straight to his heart. She really thought he was like one of them. He nearly shuddered, but just stood there looking wounded, instead. "My dear woman. I want nothing!" Alex looked at her with concern. "Though, perhaps you would be so kind as to give me your name?" The third dog came out of it's kennel and nosed his hand. Absentmindedly, Alex gave it a few pats on the head before realizing it was really there. He bent down and grabbed another hunk of meat and tossed it in the kennel before setting his eyes on the dark-skinned woman again. He knew better than to call her a slave. She was as much a woman as the fair-skinned lady he'd spent the previous night with. Perhaps he could share what he saw with her...it would be several nights, still, before he would pull his job here. There was time to sow some seeds, if he could manage to do it. |
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| Ataá | 12 Jan 2008, 06:16 AM Post #7 |
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Deckhand
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Ataá didn't see the look in Alexander's eyes because her own were cast down on the ground and her own head tipped down. She didn't look up at him even for a moment, she had already risked a lot before when she met his eyes. Staring someone down could be taken as a mark of defiance and something that needed to be crushed. So she kept her posture of someone who was already crushed into submission in the hope that he would believe it and no longer want to test her or toy with her. No matter what was really going on here there was one thing that she was certain. He had power over her. And she knew what to do when someone had power over you, you made sure they knew you knew they were the one who was in control. He said something to her in a whisper, like the whole conversation had been held in. She heard surprise in his voice but nothing else she could understand. "Oh, for the love...you're pregnant!" The first exclamation which was probably going to be "Oh, for the love of God" was one that signaled to her he was frustrated. Or maybe disappointed that he had seen her more clearly now and realized she wasn't what he hoped for originally. She hoped that disappointment would lead him to lose interest and not to blame and punish her for his own mistaken perception. Yes she was pregnant...she carried a tiny life in her that depended on her. Even though she had been pregnant before she had never felt this connection though. Perhaps that was because before the baby had never come so far. It never was able to move inside of her. She lost it each time before it happened. Her first three children had been "ghost children"...they hadn't seemed real. But this time he was. She knew somehow that it was a son, her son and she was determined to keep him safe any way she could. From this man or anyone else who might take him from her. She turned her face slightly to the side to look up at him without being seen to do it. Whatever she expected to see it wasn't what she found. He looked injured as if she hurt him somehow and with a light of compassion in his eyes. "My dear woman. I want nothing! Though, perhaps you would be so kind as to give me your name?" Was he acting and putting on a show for some kind of twisted fun. No man ever wanted nothing. They all wanted something although it wasn't always the same thing. Ataá hated trying to figure out this twisted puzzle the man was setting her already. She hated the feeling of uncertainty and a strange sort of falling. She took the piece that he handed her and answered him without hesitation. Giving him the name that she had been given a long time ago, the name that all white men and women called her. But not the name that was really hers. "I'm called Polly" she told him while still kneeling at his feet but then slowly pushed herself, beginning to stand up. When he didn't stop her she stood all the way and backed herself against the kennel. Was what she read in his eyes real? She didn't know but she took a risk and brought her eyes up to meet his eyes again to take a second look. |
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| Alexander Hurst | 12 Jan 2008, 11:31 PM Post #8 |
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Able Seaman
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"Polly is it?" Alexander looked at the woman skeptically, before a smile tugged at his lips. "I very seriously doubt that." He watched her back herself up to the kennel. He gave a light chuckle, grabbed another piece of meat, and tossed it into the next partition where the dog he had named "Jessmont" sat with tail wagging. Her eyes lifted, and his spirits followed suit. "I didn't ask for a white woman's name. I asked you for yours." He looked at her for a moment, a playful air about him began to form. It was in his nature to see everyone as equals. He knew enough slaves to know that whatever name they went by was rarely the name they were truly connected to. He met her eyes, relieved to see that she had enough spark inside of her to be curious...enough to connect with him at least a little bit. It made him glad to think that the confines her fellow man placed her in had not broken her completely. "I'm Alexander....Alexander Hurst, by the way." He looked at her, hoping his trust in giving his name would be met with something similar from her. |
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| Ataá | 26 Jan 2008, 12:13 AM Post #9 |
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Deckhand
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He looked at her as if he didn't believe her and then he answered "Polly is it? I very seriously doubt that." He was still feeding the dogs but stopped after he said that and looked at her again more closely and laughed lightly. "I didn't ask for a white woman's name. I asked you for yours." Now she knew from his light spirited tone that he was making fun of her. She must have imagined the compassion she glimpsed in his eyes. She wondered bitterly why she had to be the evening's entertainment, he should know he had power over her with every other way so why did he have to try to mess with her mind and trick her into saying something wrong like this. "I'm Alexander....Alexander Hurst, by the way." He added. She didn't know the name at all, she never heard of the Hursts before but she didn't know all the white families in the area. "I am proud to have the name that Master Greeley gave me" she forced out the words in a low voice. It was true that she was lucky to have gotten Polly. She knew a boy on a nearby plantation who was given the name Puppy. But she lied saying she was proud of it. But she had to say it before she answered his question, since he insisted she had to tell him her real name. If she just answered right out by saying her real name then she was risking a lot and she had to "prove" her content with the other name first to avoid that. Why did he keep on making fun of her? Now she knew he had to be lying about everything else. "I was named Ataá" she added "but I never use it, Master Greeley gave me a good Christian name." She said it in the same monotone that she had said everything else in. |
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| Alexander Hurst | 23 Feb 2008, 05:47 AM Post #10 |
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Able Seaman
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"A good Christian name, eh?" Alex, being opposed to the constructs of society already, only chuckled a little. "I don't believe good Christianity has anythin' to do with your name." He stood up from feeding another dog and faced her with oddly honest eyes. "I have an acceptable name, you know, but I'm anything but good." He smiled carelessly. "Besides," he added, "I think Ataá is much prettier...and that Greeley is a stuffshirt maggot of a man." When he had a mind to speak his thoughts, the situation or location he was in never seemed to matter much. He was finished with the last dog and had two extra hunks of meat. He sighed and raised his eyebrows. "Stole too much, again...pity." He looked at Ataá and smiled warmly, "Say, have you had dinner yet?" |
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| Ataá | 26 Feb 2008, 02:14 AM Post #11 |
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Deckhand
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Ataá didn’t care about Christianity it never did anything for her. It was either a lie or it was evil, because many Christians used their holy book to support everything evil that they did. The name Polly that she was given meant nothing to her at all, her own name was Ataá Bosompra, by naming her Polly they were taking her identity and her ntoro away from her. Her ntoro was her father’s name and it was her soul, Greeley was a clever man to take it away from her and give her a ‘Christian name’. He was right when he said “A good Christian name, eh? I don’t believe good Christianity has anythin’ to do with your name.” She was very still, she hadn’t moved since she stood up and she was still backed against the kennel but she had taken the risk of watching him. He wasn’t looking at her at first but then he turned back to her, she didn’t know what to read in his eyes, they were very clear but she knew there was something hidden behind them. There was always something hidden behind people, she was watching to find out what it was. But she couldn’t watch so obviously so she dropped her eyes again after he looked at her and didn’t look at him while he added “I have an acceptable name, you know, but I’m anything but good.” What did that mean? She didn’t understand what he was trying to tell her. Ataá hadn’t been asked a question and she wouldn’t speak without being told to, she would have kept quiet anyway but the next thing that Alexander said brought her out of the perfect mask she was keeping up. “Besides, I think Ataá is much prettier…” Nobody had said her real name in a long long time since even the other slaves called her Polly, she didn’t dare to use her real name or else she knew Greeley would be angry. It sounded strange to hear someone else saying it, actually it shocked her like she touched live electricity to hear it. She didn’t understand why he said this either. In her surprise she looked at him directly while he added “…and that Greeley is a stuffshirt maggot of a man.” It frightened her to hear him say it, she did not know what she should do or say. Ataá hesitated and she hesitated too long, he spoke again. “Stole too much, again…pity. Say, have you had dinner yet?” He was showing her kindness and she couldn’t bring herself to trust it. She knew he was offering her the food, but she was too afraid to refuse it and too afraid to accept it. She didn’t know it but her stare fastened on the meat in his hands and told the truth, there was bare hunger in the darkness in her eyes. She suddenly knew what she should say. She had to make it clear that she was loyal to her owner…that she was not rebellious…She spat out the same lies that the white men told each other, she knew the lies for rote memory and she could quote them from their talking when visitors came. “Master Greeley is a kind man. He is like a father to his slaves.” Greeley was not kind, he was nothing more than a clever man, he knew when to apply brutality and when he shouldn’t, the only way he was better than other masters was that he didn’t abuse his slaves just for the fun of it. He did it just when it was ‘necessary’ when it would serve his purpose, which was to keep them down and working with no ideas of escape or rebellion. Greeley was good at it too. His methods kept Ataá from being able to think that Alex was being honest or truthful with her, Greeley might dream up a trick like this just to test his slaves. But she was so hungry, the child growing in her meant that she needed more to eat than she once did…she said in an unexpected whisper something that was true. “I haven’t eaten.” Not since early that morning when she snatched a few bites. |
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| Alexander Hurst | 26 Feb 2008, 07:52 PM Post #12 |
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Able Seaman
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The woman's eyes seemed to glaze over in fear when he insulted her keeper. She defended him and Alex shook his head, "Yes, well, we both know he's not the sort of father you'd want raising any child." Alexander hated slavery. He hated the idea of owning anything, much less people. If Ataá had never seen what freedom was like before, he would be only too happy to show her. She needed to know, after all. He looked at the hunk of meat in his hands as she whispered to him. A second later his clear, blue eyes met hers and he looked at her sympathetically. She needed more food than that to function on her own. Adding a growing babe into the picture made it even more important for her to eat. He looked down at the meat again, dissatisfied. It was raw...suitable for feeding dogs, but not for feeding people. Doubting she would be able to find a chance to cook it, he dropped the meat gently on the ground and began to rummage though his pockets. "A father indeed..." Alex scowled and searched through one of the pouches he had with him. "The last thing you need now is a father who starves 'is kids," he was half talking to her, half talking to himself as he searched. "I'll give you the meat, even though it's a bit too rare to eat...confounded bits of junk!" He exclaimed in a whisper and produced a china serving bowl, a silver candle stick and a nice, leather belt. "Ah-hah!" His eyes lit up as he found what he was looking for, giving Ataá one of his most brilliant smiles. "Here you are, Ataá." He held out a half a loaf of bread and an apple. "It's not much, but it's better than nothin'." He smiled and placed the other things back into his pouch with his free hand, hoping that despite her fear, she would be able to find the strength to take food from him. |
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| Ataá | 27 Feb 2008, 09:34 PM Post #13 |
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Deckhand
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Alex dropped the meat on the ground and Ataá looked at him uncertain before she understood that of course he didn't want to touch her by handing it to her. She kneeled down on the ground to pick it up out of the dirt and brushed it off, the black dirt still stuck to it in places but it could still be eaten. It was raw but she was hungry enough to eat it raw except that she knew it would make her sick, would he allow her to take it back with her and cook it? Ataá wondered why he was offering her the food when he didn't have any reason to do it, would she find a boot in her side when she reached for it? He didn't actually tell her to take it. She put it down back in the dirt when she thought of that, she was being stupid to just reach for it when he hadn't told her to. She heard him talking but he seemed like he wasn't really talking to her. He wasn't angry at her for what she was doing just before that, he was talking to himself actually she thought. "A father indeed...The last thing you need now is a father who starves 'is kids," he said sounding occupied. Her own real father never starved his children, even when the famine was worst he gave up what he had for them, she remembered that. She couldn't remember her father's face or sound of his voice anymore but she could remember what he did to try to protect them. Her father was a great man and Greeley was nothing like him. Alex was talking again and she looked up at him, she was still kneeling there in front of him and she had moved back from the meat. "I'll give you the meat, even though it's a bit too rare to eat...confounded bits of junk!" That was permission to take it, her hand snuck forward again to pick the meat back up out of the dirt, it was smeared with dirt on all sides now but she could clean it off. But she kept on watching him as she reached to take it to see if he meant or if he would change his mind. "Ah-hah!" he said suddenly and she froze still looking up at him. But he was smiling suddenly, his face was glowing with a glad look that wasn't threatening. "Here you are, Ataá. It's not much, but it's better than nothin'." It was still strange to hear her real name on the second time...he didnt quite get the tone right but it was very close. He reached out his hand to her and there was a battered apple and part of a loaf of bread in it, she put the meat in her apron and wiped her hands off on the fabric. She reached up slowly towards the food and took it, she was careful not to touch his hand but only the food. They were both holding the food, they were connected by an apple and he was still smiling at her. Ataá's face was still blank first and then she slowly gave a small smile that you almost couldn't see. "Thank you Master Hurst," she said quietly. |
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1:52 PM Jan 9