❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓!❞
A normal village girl's life was turned upside down ever since her family was killed by a gang of gunslingers. The wounds haven't healed and the memory still remains. She...
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SOMEWHERE DEEP WITHIN THE MOUNTAINS, OREGON 1893
It was a fine and sunny morning in the village of Alnerwick, the sun shining admirably over the horizon as it woke up the rest of the village occupants and animals. The sounds of screaming chickens awoke a certain farmer from his deep slumber, the deep and dark bags under his eyes shouted at the farmer for more rest; but alas he has to force himself to stay awake and tend to the farm animals.
He stretches his broad body out and unwinds each and every kink in his body, cracking up joints and relieving himself from any soreness.
Suddenly, a girl wearing a long gray dress comes to his side and hands out a cup of steaming hot coffee to him.
"Morning Papa, I made you something." The young woman says with much fondness. The farmer smiled at his daughter and patted her head softly, thanking her for the cup of coffee she went out of the way to make for him.
"What work will you be doing today Papa? Mind if I help?" The daughter asked energetically. Her (h/c) hair framed her face naturally, giving her a fresh look—even though she just woke up.
The father stroked his beard and chuckled at his daughter as if she just told him the funniest joke. "No (Y/n), you'll stay here and help your mother with the chores. I'm sure she has a lot on her plate right now."
"But she has Jane, Harriet, and Rosemary to help her! I want to do the heavy work stuff that you always do." You protested to your father, you just turned eighteen a month ago. The least you could do is help your father chop up some wood and sell it to the other villagers below the mountain. But all he replied is with a big exhale, a small smile adorned his rugged face.
He can't help but wonder, why is his daughter always so adamant on doing the heavy work? Her other siblings would rather go through a heavy storm than pick up an axe. The older man scratches his head in confusion.
"Alright then, you chop those logs over there–" your father pointed at the mountain of logs near the big oak tree "—and when you're finished just shout my name, alright darling?" He can see the sparkle forming in your eyes from his words. He exhales, he'll never understand why you want to do this so much.
You smiled as if you just struck gold, you thanked your father and went on your merry way to the big oak tree and picked up a heavy log. Your soft fingers grabbed onto the axe that was lying near the chopping area, you may be inexperienced, but that doesn't deter you from doing your outdoor chores.
The sounds of you struggling were echoing throughout the grassy mountains, groans and exhales were the only thing that came out of your mouth. You chopped wood until sweat was coating every inch of your body and eventually sticking your dress to your back, leaving sweat marks all over.
