You were riding around New Hanover with no particular destination in mind. You liked spending your leisure time out and about. It was refreshing to listen to the chirps of the birds and hooves of the deer running by while the cool wind tickled your skin rather than Uncle’s drunken rambling or Micah’s bullshit.

You were almost too occupied by the nature around you to see that your friend, Arthur Morgan, had silently hung back, journal in hand as he sketched this tree that caught his eye.