It was Arthur, of course. Damn.

"You've been neglecting your chores. Again."
Kyle spun around on his boot cladded heels, simultaneously brushing way the paler hand from his shoulder. Their eyes met, eyes that matched. It was physical qualities like these that they both shared so acutely that a stranger could rightly presume they were related.
That was all a load of rubbish to Kyle, though. Just coincidences.

The younger boy's eyes lowered to the empty space beside the elder's left hand – the one in which held that all too familiar horse switch, the bloody cane's best mate. He did not care to look at him.
"Right," he muttered with reluctant obedience. "I'll get to it."
"Good," Arthur said with finality. "Do your duties before sundown. By then I want you to be cleaned up and ready to help your grandmother with tea."
"Yes, sir."
The Englishman turned from his brother, striding on between the trees towards his horse that was tied beside Kyle's own. Kyle's eyes moved back up once he was no longer being watched and he observed quietly as they other rode away to leave him alone once more.
He took a moment to just sit and watch. Sitting and watching was his speciality at times like this, by himself. It may not appear that a boy as boisterous and outgoing with company as Kyle could favour silence in nature most of all, but it was the case.

Kyle was upon a modest hill which took descent in front of him sharply enough that he had to bend his neck to see the roots of where it started, like a cliff. That is, if all the gum trees didn't cloud that view. This was not the side that he would climb up or down upon, but it was always the side he planted himself at to be alone. You could see for kilometres without end from up there, which calmed him, and of course this space was where his single Scribbly Gum lived in its ignorant, tree bliss.
The land took on a grey-blue, geological camel-look on its horizon. Slowly rearing to green-brown, casual tors, calloused and blotched with shadows, rock and foliage which appeared to sway in the heat with an overwhelming air of patience. At the bottom of Kyle's hill a khaki river hugged along it's plunging side, shaded by that of mostly River Red Gums (Eucalyptus camaldulensis), a grand tree that has proved iconic to Australia. It plays an important role upon river banks, holding the soil and preventing flooding. Its varying white to grey to red-brown bark is smooth and sheds in long ribbons – its leaves broad at the base before tapering at the tip. Both the River Red Gums and the river have proved refuge to Kyle during the Summer, which is rather unforgiving while working outside on the property. The heat makes one weary. Sleepy, even.

Silver light slanted through and onto the motionless trunks, as if coming from narrow windows. The quiet was deafening – where had the birds gone? Such an atmosphere deserves respect, like a library or cathedral, for the even the smallest scraping noise can disturb the peace and trample soft feelings: unique feelings of obscure wonder that can only grow in places such as these. From this, Ella unconsciously continued her way on tiptoe.

This area was a foreign place yet it was just as familiar as the last hill, which made Ella consider turning back. However, something on the ground beneath a tree caught her eye.
At first she thought that it was just a bundle of clothing probably neglected by that of a traveller or someone skinny dipping in the nearby river, but then contours of flesh came into view. A body was wearing the clothes.
By now the undergrowth and trees were simply backdrops in Ella's mind.
It was a man . . . or a boy, really – he couldn't have been out of his teen years – lying in the shade. A boy! Out here? That's unusual and something her conscious told her she shouldn't be a part of.
On the point of marching back to her house, however, she instead took another two steps. She remained very still for a while, a few minutes odd, and nothing around her changed. What if he was dead? She took another couple of steps. He may have been asleep and if that was the case she would see who he was. She wanted to see his face.
It turns out his face was half-covered by elbow and drenched in shade. To see his face Ella would have to get up close – she hesitated, and then squatted.
She was close enough to touch him now.
His skin was young and healthy but worn by the weather and the sun. It was very natural and masculine, being darker than her own. She noticed that his clothes were of quite good quality but worn loosely and rather carelessly. She assumed that he was forced to wear such clothes, as she was to her own dresses and gowns.
As Ella watched, his lips moved. "He must be dreaming," she whispered aloud. What would a boy, out here and under a tree, dream about? It made her wonder.
On further examination Ella noticed that most of the visible areas of the boy's skin were roughed up – in a sense that it was calloused, spotted, dirty or scarred. Considering the bodies of men most of them have scars. They tend to accumulate them. Naturally they're worn by men, almost like how women wear jewellery. To carry a scar is to carry a story. The very suggestion can extend a person.
Ella was watching a rather dominant mark across the boy's nose, a completely straight tear, when an eye beside it opened and considered her.
Pale green-lime was the eye. Under the circumstances, riddled as they were with chance – and harsh light and filtered shade – it was the eye colour Ella expected. They matched her own.
Yet he remained stationary, not even shifting the elbow. It was as if – out here, practically in the middle of nowhere – he was lying in bed.
To her own surprise she spoke first. "What are you napping out here for?"
"And who might you be?"
"That doesn't matter." Ella stood up. He was being smart. Brushing imaginary twigs and leaves from her cotton dress she considered leaving, but then he sat up. He really wasn't much older than she was – three years at best. He may have been eighteen, but no more.
"I opened my eyes just then, and instead of leaves or stars I saw freckled, toffee pearl."
Ella didn't really know what he was talking about. She made as if to go. "You were talking in your sleep."
"Interesting. What'd I say?"
"Someone's name."
He grinned. Ella could tell it was genuine and natural for him to do so.
Ella then began wonder just what he was doing all the way out here. Now that she looked she could see his horse nearby. Did he live around here? She knew of no place within a few hours distance. Maybe he was from the town.
Frowning to herself she recalled her grandfather warning her about men and the way they used words. So far this one had hardly said a thing. When she stole a glance at him he wasn't even looking in her direction. He had his head turned, absorbed in something else. It almost irritated her that he felt that he could just casually sit around as he pleased, and yet at the same time she could feel the spreading comfort at the way they each allowed without difficulty a silence to open between them.
No sooner had this registered before she felt annoyed – somewhat defensive. She didn't want to be open to this stranger and she wanted it to show, without quite knowing why.
"Why don't you have a seat? Either that or I'll get up. I can't have you towering over me, that doesn't make much sense."
Without waiting for a reply he stood up anyway, which encouraged a very faint smile from Ella.
Once again he looked away, like he had something on his mind.
"You don't happen to have the time on you?"
"It was half past noon when I left. That was about an hour ago."
". . . Fuck. Rightio."
Now the boy had turned away – he definitely had something on his mind. His body language almost appeared like he had dismissed her, leaving her there like she was just another tree, nothing more. It was incredibly rude. There wasn't anyone else within a mile of them. Now his eyes and even his skin took on a new light, appearing rather out of place in the glare.
Ella was going to let him know how she felt by walking off, but then she saw to her amazement that he, too, was striding away towards his horse in the other direction, leaving her beneath the Scribbly Gum.
They both left the tree. Ella had no interest to see him again.