The wind around angrily, Australian winters could be brutal. The more brutal they were, the more brutal the summers would be. That's what your father had said in the letters. The sounds of cows mooing and men shouting as they herded the cows to move them. Meanwhile, your adoptive mother, Lady Ashley. Who was busying herself with helping around the manor and not fretting over you. Her adopted child. As well as being prepared for the next business matter.

Meanwhile, Drover was shouting at the cows and in a language you didn't know or exactly cared for. You had only met Drover once when he gave you and your mother a lift down to Far Away Downs. He was recently appointed to be the manager at Far Away Downs.

The weather was getting more brutal, the wind whipping and threatening the recently fixed up up house and the stables. A few small Indigenous people stared at the clouds that rolled in. You could spot them from your window. It was a nice place, and this would be the first rain of the season. Which would be a welcome one.