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Post by Gloria. on Sept 29, 2011 0:39:57 GMT -5
In that sliver of day-break, the hour before the sun rises. No one is up, except for the chickens and Adeola. She had just left New Hampshire the week before, tired, she nearly missed this moment when she set up camp on the opening of Massachusetts. Rhode Island was far behind her, now.
Adeola was a runaway, the slave-girl of a affluent widow in Rhode Island, she had enough of her the year before and had planned her escape.
Rubbing her eyes of sleep, she quickly washed and dressed herself. Looking up, she knew she had a good while before daybreak. Grabbing her worn cloak, she covered herself, and moved on.
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Post by Bog on Oct 2, 2011 6:22:58 GMT -5
It was not yet dawn, yet Starling was awake and mostly alert. He had been unlucky enough to draw picquet duty and so was standing by the very edge of the field in which the regiment had camped. Ahead him was a long stretch of trees, separated from the field only by a narrow lane. In the darkness, even shadows were difficult to see. It wasn't shadows or vague shapes that would give danger away, though. It was noise.
Starling had, since being detailed to this spot, alternated between standing and sitting, always careful to keep his movements slow so as to minimise any sound. With his legs beginning to grow weary, he decided now was a good time to sit. Keeping the butt of his musket planted firmly on the ground, the big Vermonter began slowly to lower himself down. Left knee down first, then the right. He got no further than this, however, for his keen ears caught the sound of movement from close enough by to be suspicious.
He froze, musket still gripped like a pole in one hand. At least he was down on his knees, which would make his outline much less visible. Though like as not it was just some deer making a late-night forage. Pity he couldn't hunt out here.
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Post by Gloria. on Oct 3, 2011 0:51:33 GMT -5
Someone was near. Maybe it was just her fatalistic nature peeking in, but Adeola, knew, she just knew that someone, anyone was out there. Still, she tried to move on. Her almost bare feet picked up dust as she treaded on.
She must've been a site. A small cloaked figure that ran across the forest floor like a witch or a sprite of old mythology. Adeola's tiny body was able to blend in with the trees and the shrubbery for a time, until she made a misstep and toppled over.
"Ah!" a yell, sharp and clear, she had tripped over a branch that had scratched into her skin. She stifled herself, and scrambled up in spite of her pain, but she knew that it was probably too late.
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Post by Bog on Oct 3, 2011 6:46:00 GMT -5
He thought he heard the sound of feet, but over the light pre-dawn breeze it was impossible to be sure. It could simply be his mind wanting to believe there was someone else out there. Then came the high, sharp cry. It was quickly cut off, so short that it could easily be dismissed as the noise from some animal, but Starling's suspicions were aroused.
His right hand slid down to the doghead-screw and curled around it. There was a light, distinct click as the flint was drawn back to half-cock. Now was the time to shift his position so he could more easily fire. Starling leaned his weight to the right, bringing his left knee up. His musket moved next, the butt coming up off the ground to settled into the pocket of his right shoulder. With his left elbow resting just above his left kneecap, the musket was balanced well enough to allow him steady aim.
Through all of these slow movements, Starling's ears were alert for any further sound. There was nothing. He was not stupid enough to call out and thereby give away his presence, but he would rise slowly off his right knee and, keeping his musket held across his body, creep forward toward the lane. Investigating could not hurt, as long as he kept low and quiet.
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Post by Gloria. on Oct 29, 2011 23:35:10 GMT -5
Red blood sprang from her wound. A small scratch that wouldn't kill her, but it still stung as the cool air blew around her running form. Her mind swarmed with a million thoughts...many of them focused on getting out of there. The sun was rising and soon the world would be awake again, and she'd be stuck in this forest until it became dark again.
At least, that's what she hoped.
If she was caught, she'd either be dead or forced into slavery once more. And to be quite honest, while both options were unpleasant, Adeola preferred death to bondage. At last, she was out of the woods and into a more dangerous position than before. A man, at least that's what she assumed he was, it was still quite dark, even with daylight approaching, had his gun focused in her direction. Well, it seemed that the time came for her to choose. Should she run or surrender?
A smarter person would simply fall to their knees and beg, but Adeola had been up for some time and was running on pure energy, so, of course, she ran.
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Post by Bog on Nov 1, 2011 18:23:48 GMT -5
There. Movement. He'd known it. Starling was upright and following whatever had suddenly roused itself to flight, all but convinced by the manner of escape that it was human. A shame. Had it been a deer, his company would have eaten tolerably well for the next week.
He wasted no breath on pointless commands to stop. This was a chase that would be won by speed, not words. Starling wasn't fool enough to waste powder and ball on a warning shot either. No, he would run this particular race to its end - which would be when he caught his quarry.
Though it seemed that this quarry was fleet-footed. A younger person, then. Even better. Starling halted abruptly, perhaps fifty yards along, and listened. He could move fairly silently but the noise created by his half-blind crashing through undergrowth could help his prey escape.
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 2, 2011 3:12:53 GMT -5
Who ever this was seemed to be hell bent on trapping her. She wasn't an animal, nor was she a (real) criminal. She was just a girl that wanted passage into Massachusetts (and possibly, back to New York, she had a friend that she felt she needed to see again).
She was left running into the wood work once again with her persurer's feet ambling after her. Adeola could not understand why this person felt they needed to go after her. She was minding her own business and meant no harm with her intrusion. That didn't matter, now. What mattered was that this ended with her not as a slave.
She refused to go back to that life.
She was almost out of the woods, once more, she was so close until her dress snagged against a fallen branch, toppling her over. Frightened, she picked up another branch, blunt and heavy, she began to swing it around, frantically.
"Leave me be!", she cried, amidst the thrashing, her hood fell, revealing that underneath her cloak was a wild-haired black girl with wide, angry eyes.
Her accent was thick; a mixture of African patois with a British twang, hinting that she or her parents were not born in the New World. "You oyibo*, are all alike! Always wantin' to take things you don't own. I pray to Olodumare* will be rid of you all! " Oyibo, the word her mother used to call their masters behind closed doors. They way she said was with so much hate and venom that it would offend a weaker person.
She was shaking. As brave as she thought she was, she knew that this could be the end. The question was, could it be the end of her freedom or her life?
(Oyibo - is a Yoruban/Nigerian word that's been used to describe whites, or Europe and European culture.
Olodumare - is the head God/Orisha of the Yoruban patheon. Adeola/Lily would've learned of these practices and terms from her mother, in private, of course. Later on, the religion of the Yoruban people would evolve into something known as Voodoo. It is more than likely, that Adeola is using Olodumare as a general term for the Christian God. African slaves have mixed their own past religious ideals with the ones that they were enforced with. Just wanted to explain a few things in case if I get yelled at.)
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Post by Bog on Nov 2, 2011 9:26:25 GMT -5
It was just as well he'd stopped, Starling realised. There was a great crash of noise, perhaps fifteen yards ahead, as his quarry fell and almost immediately afterward came a nearly unintelligible shout. In the growing light, it was now possible to see he'd been chasing a girl, who was defiantly brandishing a tree branch. Plucky little thing.
Starling smirked. "Put that down," he said.
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 2, 2011 17:57:29 GMT -5
Offended, she shouted, "No! I do not take orders from you, Oyibo."
She held it tightly in her hand, she refused to submit to a stranger. Her breathing was heavy and it was apparent that she was very tired and very scared. As the figure got closer, her grip got tighter.
"Don't come near me!"
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Post by Bog on Nov 3, 2011 17:36:28 GMT -5
Starling stayed put where he'd stopped initially, keeping that fifteen yards' distance between them. He might be young but he wasn't stupid.
"Put it down," he repeated and pulled the doghead back to full-cock. At this range, it would be a pretty trick to miss the girl, even in this poor light.
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 3, 2011 18:21:11 GMT -5
The sun was at half mast, light illuminated through the trees to show her pursuer's face. Adeola was right, he was a white man, a bit younger than the one's she's known. He seemed to be around her age, if a little older, but that didn't make her trust him right away.
"Put down your gun and I'll let go of this branch. If not, I'm afraid you'll have to kill me."
She was dead serious. She stood up, a piece of her dress tore off, no thanks to the fallen tree limb underneath. Still she held the branch away from her body, waiting for him drop his own weapon.
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Post by Bog on Nov 3, 2011 18:58:42 GMT -5
Under no circumstances would Starling surrender his musket. Neither, however, was he prepared to fire. Yet. Why waste the shot if he did not need to? He remained still for a long moment, weighing his options, then, with a deliberate show of reluctance - which was not entirely feigned - he lowered the flint.
"Do I look like a bloody idiot?" He snorted. There were a few things he knew he looked like, as scruffy as he was, but an idiot was not one of them.
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 3, 2011 20:16:54 GMT -5
"Yes. Most white men do." She cut back. Like he requested, she dropped her branch, and folded her arms against her chest. Adeola had a lot of questions. Most of them involved in what he was going to do with her.
Would he let her go? Or would he capture her? He looked like had no money, so she wasn't going to even bother stealing anything from him. After some silence, she got a little impatient.
"Can I go now, or am I your prisoner?"
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Post by Bog on Nov 5, 2011 8:48:47 GMT -5
Prisoner? Starling frowned. Well. Yes, he supposed she was. There weren't many reasons for somebody to be lurking near the regiment's bivouac, especially under cover of darkness.
"Seems that way," the Vermonter rumbled. Which meant, of course, dragging the brat back to the lines. Whatever happened then was none of his concern. Even though spies typically only met with one fate. "Let's move along then."
The sooner they got back, the better. Starling was hungry and had no interest in missing breakfast.
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 6, 2011 5:41:00 GMT -5
Her mouth was slack. Her face giving him a look that said, 'ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLASTED MIND? ALL OF THAT, JUST TO BE A PRISONER? WHAT?!'
The fact that he was so..non-chalant about it, well, to put it layman's terms, pissed her off.
"No! I do not want to go with you! I'd rather have Indians tie me down and sacrifice me! No, no, no!"
She wished she could make this blundering idiot see things her way, but she again realized that he was a white man. And from what she experienced, white people weren't exactly that eager to see things the way a poor black slave did.
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Post by Bog on Nov 6, 2011 10:16:36 GMT -5
Now that, Starling thought, was a perfectly acceptable option too. He was tempted to oblige her, in fact. But then he thought that his captain would be less than pleased if he passed up the chance to question a spy. Accordingly, he curled his big hand back around the doghead and said, "That's too nice an end fer a British spy. Come 'long or I'll make you wish you'd kept runnin'."
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 6, 2011 18:15:22 GMT -5
"That's too nice an end fer a British spy. Come 'long or I'll make you wish you'd kept runnin'."
Really? A spy? He thought she was spy?! Now back home, she would've obeyed, but now that she wasn't a slave and, in her eyes, was her own master, she had half a mind to..to..she wasn't sure what she'd do, but it would be unpleasant.
Angered, she stomped over to the tall man, too annoyed to notice his weapon, "First off, I work fer nobody! This is a white man's war, I don't care what you people do. Second, I've been walking for almost a year trying to get away from the war and people like you. So, no, I don't care about no spies or England, and I certainly don't care about you!"
Her glare seemed to be etched unto her face as she looked him down. She made it clear that she was not going without a fight.
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Post by Bog on Nov 8, 2011 12:59:27 GMT -5
Despite his desire to avoid trouble with his captain, Starling was not at all sure he cared enough to drag this brat along by her hair even though he was tempted to do. Her tone annoyed him and yet he was beginning to think he'd be better off simply leaving her here to shout invective at the trees.
"That so," he said, making up his mind. She was absolutely not worth the effort it would take to beat her into submission. The big Vermonter shrugged and turned away. It was not wholly necessary to bring her along anyway. Tracking her would be easy enough. Once he reported the encounter, his company would be roused. Once that happened, he reckoned it wouldn't take long to cut her trail and run her to earth.
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Post by Gloria. on Nov 14, 2011 1:26:22 GMT -5
She smirked, "Serves you right." Confident in her fighting off the beastly man she went back to her intended route. Still, she wondered what would happen to her if she did not resist.
Adeola quickly wiped that thought out of her head and disappeared into the forest.
(I guess I could say this is completed. Thanks for playing with me. XD)
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