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𝐓𝐇𝐄 wakening warmth drifted in a summery and blossoming soft breeze, the type of amiability that flowed into the cores, setting the aura of the scorching atmosphere into a ambiance climate. Under the summery sun everyone could feel the penetrating warmth of those marvellous and delightfully brilliant beaming rays of light that granted them vibrant colours and softly painting smiles to emerge on their visages.
The same sun that sent newly green patches of leaves bursting to life from their blacked buds now turned the wands of the viridescent knee high grasses into brashly patches of golden dryness. The trees that decorated the open countryside stood muted and restrained in the summer air. The scorching humidity that had engraved itself in the state of Lemoyne was so heavy that it was enough to make anyone become drained without even doing anything productive throughout the day.
Heat licked at their sunburned visages and coiled itself around their limbs like a great serpent, stamping down onto their delicate skin and seeding right into their bones. The ground that lay beneath their feet was smouldering and it sent up a simmering and disorienting haze of red soil. Even the flocks of birds that inhabited the more drier parts of Lemoyne weren't their usual chirping and singing selves, instead they remained silent and settled down onto the high tops of trees where they could gather shade. The acres of grass that were a mixture of green in some areas and golden in other parts stood still and stiff as if it was too hot for nature itself to completely comprehended with the heat.
A fair distance from the town of Rhodes where the sun hit hard and was at it's peak, lay the very lavish and large Calliga Hall. Fenced all the way around it's large acres of historical and rich land, with multiple men that were assigned to guard and keep on alert scattered in different areas whom were armed with rifles decorated the estate. Fields of utterly dry and withered tobacco framed a portion of the land as underpaid workers of colour tended to them, the heat sizzling down onto their overworked figures. Two Devon Ox's and one Angus Ox inhabited a medium sized section of land just across a much nicer field of tended tobacco, where they grazed peacefully and flickered their tails in joyful sways.
The red bricked manor was the ego laid out in brick of the head of the Gray family and the eldest; Tavish Gray. It was overly large and ostentatious to the point of intimidation. It lay drop centre of the large acres of land that the Gray family possessed, making no attempt to camouflage into the countryside of Lemoyne. The manor was the perfect depiction of the man who inherited it and who lived there. It had grown old, and tattered like Tavish Gray. Yet, despite it's faults and fallings, and the history that lay thick behind it, it was still a thing of beauty and pretentious wealth.
Dutch van der Linde being Dutch had been fiddling around with the Gray family, particularly sheriff Leigh Gray down at Rhodes, and had been pulling their strings like puppets. When the supposed rumour lingered into crisp air and entered his ear drums about the Braithwaite and Gray family both possessing and hiding prestige gold, it had wholeheartedly intrigued Dutch van der Linde and influenced him into digging deep into both feuding families and finding that yankee gold that had been attached to them.
