𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁 || Original Story

10 - lord

I drove to Whitemarsh early the next morning to find Thomas sat on the steps to the front door, polishing the barrel of his shot gun. He was clad in a thick tweed suit paired with sturdy wellington boots that he seemed to have cleaned but missed a spot of dirt on the side of one.

Artemis was sat patiently by his side, glancing around and perking up when he saw me.

"Morning, Arthur," greeted Thomas with a smile.

"Good morning," I replied in the same manner. "You look well prepared."

He laughed. "You have to be in this bizarre weather. And you're prepared by the looks of it. Wellingtons are a smart idea; you never know what's out in those fields."

I had no choice but to wear wellingtons because I had no other suitable footwear. Hiking in the woodland wasn't exactly on my to-do list when I moved to Pryhollow. Unlike Thomas, who seemed to be up for just about anything, I was a little bit apprehensive. I was a city boy through and through and it's take a lot to break that streak; I was a man of profession and it ran right through me.

"Apollo!" Thomas then yelled, looking over his shoulder. Moments later, the little grey dog came racing from the other side of the house. Instead of dashing for her master, she came to me and sat by my feet, staring up and showing her tongue.

Thomas laughed. "It seems she has a new favourite now."

"So it does," I smiled, bending down and petting Apollo on the head. "I might have to take her home with me later."

He smiled at that and jokingly said I could and that Apollo would probably prefer it at Rose Cottage. He then put down his shotgun and took the cleaning equipment inside the house before coming back out and safely tucking his gun inside its sling.

After Thomas had put his gun into the boot of his car, we clambered in after the dogs who had hopped happily onto the backseats. However, on the journey, both Artemis and Apollo tried their luck with jumping into the front.

His car was a Rover P2 12, which he said he'd bought last year because his old car was beginning to fail him. It was indubitably a beautiful car and I wasn't much of an expert myself, but what I knew I knew from my brother, who was a fanatic before he went to war.

The scenery was exceptionally beautiful especially with the light of the early morning sun. The air was still (which was something Thomas said would most likely change soon) and the roads were quiet, which made the expansion of green fields look all the more peaceful. It still hadn't quite sunk in- even after all this time- that a place as lovely as Pryhollow was now my home.

The drive to our destination wasn't a long one and Thomas didn't make much conversation as he must have noticed that I was mystified by the scenery. He parked his car on what looked like a makeshift carpark made of uneven gravel that was a gateway to a public footpath that wound through a set of woodland and apparently out into the hills.

"It used to be busy here back before the war and especially when the weather was nice," he explained. "But people are afraid of venturing too far out now because they're afraid of just about everything."

I couldn't dispute his words. I'd seen it in London when people came to me with all sorts of maladies that could be rectified with something as simple as going outside for some fresh air and vitamin D. They said that they didn't want to go out unless absolutely essential out of fear of there being a sudden air raid or something of the sort.

Thomas and I got out of the car and the dogs followed closely, sniffing at the air and at the ground beneath us. He grabbed his gun from the boot and I stood observing with my hands tucked into my trouser pockets; it certainly felt chillier here than back at Whitemarsh.