Authors notes: Thanks for all the comments, as always I love 'em.
Foxlover: Don't worry all you Bucky and Pronk fans. God created them in this universe to punish Judy for her prejudice. And boy, is she gonna' get punished.
Storylover: Thanks for saying that you found it funny. I think I naturally gravitate towards doing funny/ humorous work, but of course unlike the creators of Zootopia, you don't really have a crowd to pitch the jokes too in order to see that they work (I mean their story trust, even before the pre-screenings, is likely larger than my current number of followers). As a result, hearing that these jokes have landed is great news. I often leave a comment if another fic does that to me (case in point, Lionheart going full cave Johnson in Foxpoint), and I would really appreciate it if every reader, even if they don't have an account, doing the same.
Arcana: By the 'most likely group to get incarcerated' I was talking about incarceration rate. In most countries, care-leavers are the group most likely to commit crimes and thus get incarcerated, all for a myriad of reasons. While Preds in Zootopia are be far, far less likely to commit 'crimes of passion' due to collars, as well as a whole range of violent offences, they likely have a similar rate of offence for smaller/ white collar crimes. At the same time, there is sentencing bias as well as policing bias in crimes where the species that did it is unknown (although this is very rare, given the fact that hair, foot marks and basic eyewitnesses will thin the suspect pool down significantly). Pred care leavers are likely very poor, have no support networks, very few job prospects, few life skills, no attachment or pride to society and a whole range of other issues. Short end of the stick is that shoplifting or sneaking into a building yard and stealing tools and scrap metal to sell on the black market is likely the most 'hopeful' option for a better life.
You asked if there are things that excuse murder? Well, yes. If someone is threatening your life or the life of another you have a right to fight back. Ideally you should aim to avoid to kill but sometimes that's either not realistic or not practical.
Ask for that met-joke in those author notes. Scar from lion king sang a song about being prepared. I joked that the settlers were doing well as they took these words to heart. (Note, Scar doesn't exist in this universe, it was a meta joke in the A.N).
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As for the bit about self reflection, Judy is a very willful/ impulsive character. She doesn't turn back and think over her actions, she rushes forwards and forwards driven wholeheartedly by her instincts. It's clear in the film and it's carrying on here.
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Chapter 7:
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Spring 1993
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It was almost two weeks since we'd arrived on the island.
Every day, we'd work our pads to the bone getting everything set up. The older and larger Preds worked on preparing the town and clearing the farmland while the smaller Preds fished or cooked. The children like me would collect shells or fish from the beach and then gut and clean them. We'd collect berries and roots to add to the food pile too, though every day we had to go further and further out to find some. When needed, we'd even run backwards and forwards, carrying messages or collecting tools for the bigger workers. Other times, we'd be helping to pack and store the food we'd collected in bottles or barrels, all preparing up for winter.
Some of the work was fun, especially the few times that I got to ride with Dad in the digger. Other work was less fun, however. Tearing the remaining soil and roots from the places where we'd build our town or the fields had left me worn out, with paws all cut up from the brambles. But all through it, even though we had no TV or radio's, it was far better than the life we'd be having back in Zootopia, even before we played and danced hard at night. Instead of being stuck in boring lessons by teachers who didn't care about us and surrounded by bullies who hated us, everyone was friendly. At the end of the day, instead of a book full of stupid notes and scribbles, we'd have finished something big like a bridge or a road. Instead of having to be quiet all day, we could shout and joke and laugh. We'd even chase each other or play between our jobs, and it wasn't that boring with Dad's music playing out loud….
.
Wasn't that boring…
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Dad's music…
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Oh, sweet cheese and crackers…
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A sudden, horrific realisation came over me. It fought with every iota of who I thought I was. It threatened to rip my identity apart. Words couldn't fathom to terror I felt at that one moment. "MUM!" I screamed out, pricking her ears. Shifting on her knees, she got up from her own work nearby and turned to face me.
"What?" she quietly asked, her head cocking sharply as she said it.
I gulped, and said out loud the dreaded confession. "I think I like Dad's music".
If anything, her head cocked even further. "Don't you think you're mixing it up with my music? You've always liked my music. Fleetwood Yak, David Joey, Kirsty Macgull…"
"No…" I replied, "It is Dad's stuff. And the boring stuff too!"
"What?" she innocently asked, shrugging as she turned back to her work. "Nothing wrong with Jerry Vole…"
"There is, it's BORING!"
"But not anymore I presume?" she asked back, making me mumble and growl in response.
"I know… That's the problem…"
"Doesn't seem like a problem to me?" she said back shrugging once more, before turning back to face the ground and the wall she was building.
"It is a problem, and it gets worse! Go boringer…"
"Don't lie," she mumbled, "you've always liked some of Simba and Garfunkle…"
"But I like even more of it now!"
"Even the rock song?"
I paused, blinking for a few seconds as the sound of Dad's favourite song fast-forwarded through my mind. "NO! I'll never like that dumb song about being a rock! Who wants to be a rock?"
"I'll have you know, a lot of musicians wanted to be stoned, which is sorta close," she half said half giggled back, evidently making an unfunny joke. "That's close enough, isn't it?"
"Still stupid though…"
"Any other cases of musical maturity?" Mum asked quietly. "What about Gullbert and…"
"They the Avarians who did the dumb pirate song?"
"That and many others," she replied.
"Then NO!" I shouted back, angry that she could even consider such a thing. "Yes, 'it's a wonderful thing to be a pirate king'. But they only had to say that once! Not the bazillion gajillion times they sung it!"
"Well, if some Simba and Garfunkle is the worst that you're enjoying, that isn't a bad thing…"
"No, it isn't…" I mumbled under my breath. "Go boringer… As boringer as is mammalianly possible…"
She seemed to get it this time, but chuckled rather than acting with the urgency it so desperately required. Standing up tall, I started walking over, more annoyed than anything else at her blatant disregard for my sudden identity crises.
"Just because there's that one song about you…"
"It isn't about me," she said back, struggling not to laugh. "It's about a Marianne, not a Marie-Anne."
"Close enough!"
"It was for your father," she replied back, suddenly very cheeky. "He played it to me when he proposed. It's always been my song… Now, get back to work you cultured little munchkin!"
I scowled at her apathy at my issues, something I soon regretted as she pinched my cheek and fussed about with it. I felt a growl coming, after all this there was no way I'd be getting back to work, but the quick mention that she wouldn't tell Pap's (so as, to quote her, 'not inflate his ego') was enough to reassure me and get me back down onto my hands and knees. The work to clear the fields had been finished a week ago and, after a day spent hammering wooden piles into the beach (Mum said it would mean more mussels and winkles, while also letting us know which areas of the beach to comb for cockles and which to leave alone), the stronger mammals left to go up the mountain. The big wolf Dad had put in charge of building, who everyone called Al, had cut a path up to a rockface where we'd get most of the building stone we'd need for the town and now most of the big workers were up there.
Turning to look up, I could just about see them working away, chiselling and cutting the rock with big picks and hammers. It must have been a special kind of rock up there, because down here I was stuck working with lots of normal looking pebbles that had been dug up when preparing the soil for crops.
When the big Preds had moved off the fields, the smaller ones and children had moved in. Al had spent a day down here with some measuring equipment. He didn't seem that good with it, but with the help of us Kids we got the whole area marked out with strings and pegs.
Now it was time to mark out our own farming areas in stone and so, throughout the morning, we'd been building up little walls to mark out our plots. Being a family of three Foxes, we'd got a middle sized one, a square with sides about thirty metres long (according to Mum). One of the Wolf families, which had five members, had got a plot with sides twice as long as that, so their plot was four times the size of our one. One of the Bears meanwhile had one twice the size of ours but half that of the wolves.
I'd asked Mum about it, and she said that the larger the mammal the more food they needed. When I asked about the Preds who didn't like many vegetables, she said that they would get a plot anyway. That way, they could grow and trade fruit and vegetables, sell their plot to someone who wanted it or use it to farm bugs instead. I then asked about selling our plot, and she said that I wasn't getting out of eating my vegetables that easily.
'Drat…'
I thought that that had been a great plan.
While I'd marked out the outside of our plot with a high wall, Mum had been busy splitting the inside into lots of smaller plot for all sorts of different vegetables. Half of the area was split into five big rows, with the rest split into a set of smaller squares. As I finally finished working on my wall, I walked over to her and asked her about what we were going to plant. Again...
"Well," she began proudly, as she stood up to look over her future garden. "We're going to have a big plot for onions, a big plot for potatoes, a big one for wheat, a big one for corn and a big one for rapeseed, which we can make vegetable oil and margarine from."
'That's OK…'
"And smaller fields for carrots…"
'Yuck!'
"Parnsips…"
'Not too bad…'
"Leeks…"
'What's a Leek? Or does she mean we'll use it as a toilet?'
"Broccoli…"
'YUCK!'
"Sprouts…"
'DOUBLE YUCK!'
"I see you don't like that, do you?"
'What kind of vege…. Oh wait. Act casual!'
"We'll also have Tomatoes…"
'If you're making Ketchup, I'm cool…'
"Chickpeas, for egg substitute…"
'Wait? A plant that taste likes eggs?!'
"Aubergines…"
'Aren't those the same things as Egg-plant? Better name than eggplant. Eggplant doesn't look OR taste like egg.'
"Peppers…"
'Yummy!'
"Rhubarb…"
'Wasn't that a cartoon dog?'
"Celery, lettuce, cabbage…"
'No-one except dumb bunnies likes that stuff! Stop being mean!'
"Runner beans, peas, squash, pumpkins and courgettes or marrows..."
'I HATE marrow. I thought Dad not getting his cheese sauce meant he'd quit that stuff too!'
'"We also get a plot in the orchards, where we'll have all sorts of fruit trees and berry bushes."
That's more like it!'
"And a bay in the greenhouses, where we can start growing our seeds nice and early."
"This is SOOO COOOl Mum!" I finally shouted back, happy to know just what we were growing, and knowing that at least some of it was edible. This stuff was interesting! Why didn't they teach this in school? It seemed far more useful than the history lessons where we kept on learning about how 'evil' us Preds were back in the savage ages.
"Glad to hear it," she said smiling back, before that smile turned into that smile… "You do realise that the stuff we put in the pots in the greenhouse will be the stuff we take out of the toilets."
I stepped back a bit in shock. 'No… she has to be joking. We can't be growing our food in…'
"They're called composting toilets for a reason…"
My eyes opened wide, and my body rooted itself to the ground in horror as Mum bursted into a fit of giggles. It didn't seem like a laughing matter to me, but my concerns were finally calmed down as she leant forward to rest her paw on my shoulder.
"Don't worry… I know what I'm doing," she said, smiling and winking as she did so. "Have the rest of the day off. Go and see what Finnick and his family are up to by the bug farm."
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Brushing myself down to clean off the dirt, I turned and ran off. Jumping onto the paths out of the allotments, which had been paved in soft sand from the beach to stop them getting muddy, I almost went down to all fours as I made my way north as fast as possible. Towards the mountains. Towards the greenhouses and the bug farms. Towards the Ibn-Zerdain's and my BFF Finnick.
The bug farms were made of long lines of wood sheds, which were slowly being surrounded by brick walls. Finnick had been helping to build them the last time I saw him and had said that they were going to fill the gaps between the brick walls and sheds with straw and hay before winter. He said that it was to keep the bugs warm. Later on, Fenrick had said that this was because bugs couldn't keep their body warm, so they needed to be kept at a nice cosy temperature. He said that one of the other smaller adults was working with his father on a heating system to keep them warm and, following the pipes that crossed the ground, I quickly found them.
Between the bug farms and the greenhouses, a tall brick chimney had been built with a small covered shed at its base. Reaching it, I spotted Khalid and a pine martin working on a big metal boiler, pipes coming out of it like leg from a spider. The Fennec spotted me first and stood up, smiling and waving at me to come over.
"Nicholas, what are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for Finnick."
Khalid's smile went down somewhat, and then he shrugged. "He's back on the boat, looking after the livestock. He'll be there all day…. Do you want a tour of the heating system? It's very clever, and it'll keep my bugs and everyone's plants nice and warm even in winter!"
"No thanks!" I shouted back before running past them. A bunch of pipes couldn't be clever… or interesting. I'd much rather see what Dad was up to. I quickly left the fields behind, running across the brand-new wooden bridge which crossed the river and then up the stone path that had been made up to the town.
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Al, the Big Wolf Dad had in charge of building everything, had been doing a lot of work in planning the town, but most of the effort so far had been used to build the town hall. He'd put all of his care and attention into it, and I'd often seen him just pacing around with his drawings looking really stressed out, but he'd made something crazy and awesome and he seemed really proud of it. He said it was his 'Magnum Opus', which he then said was his 'greatest creation'. I'd then said that, in the future, he could make something even greater. He'd just shrugged, saying that he had a feeling that this was as good as it would get before saying that, given the right conditions, he felt that I could make something even greater.
What that would be could wait for a while and instead I just settled down on the big flat semi-circle of mud in front of the hall (which Al said would become a park if he ever got some grass seeds) and looked at it. It was in line with the cliffs behind it, and was wide but low. Most of it was just two big timber barns, painted red and with black stone roofs, stretching out to the left and right. Inside, each barn had a stone floor on the ground level and a wooden first floor, which were being used for storage. They also had three big fire pits each, all under a big stone chimney to keep the hot smoke away from anything that would burn. We'd already started hanging out in one of the two barns in the evenings, eating our food and dancing in there. We took up less than half the space of one barn, so many people were now sleeping on the second floor of the other one, which was much easier than going back out to the boat every night.
As for the bit in the middle, it was a big stone building made of the stuff from the mountain. The walls looked weird at first, seeing as the grey/black rock was as long as three of four bricks but only as tall as one, but once I'd got used to how it looked I quite liked it. The ground floor had a big arched door, with two arched windows on either side of it. The three floors above that each had five windows, before the whole thing was topped with a triangular roof, the flat surface facing me the future home for a clock, if we ever got one. There was even a joke flagpole attached to it. Maybe I could design a flag for our new country?
Thinking about it, we didn't have a name for our new country…
We didn't have a name for our new town, either…
Shaking my head, and deciding to ask about the important questions of life at a later date, I looked back at the town hall and continued my previous train of thought. Finnick's mum Cherifa, and many of the other cooks would be on the ground floor, working on the electric stoves at the back to prepare dinner. The first floor had become the library, with all the books moved into it from boat. The second was split between a makeshift clinic, run by Honey's mum Chloe badger, and a filing area for notes and stuff. The third floor, and the forth up in the attic, didn't have a use yet but Dad said that when the town got busier they'd need room for offices and stuff.
Maybe that's what Al meant about me being able to make greater things. Maybe I'd be a mayor…! I scowled and shook my head at that silly thought. A Fox Mayor? Who would vote for a Fox mayor? Everyone would think we're up to something evil or something…
But as I walked away, I remembered just where we were! We weren't in Zootopia! We weren't surrounded by nasty Prey mammals who hated us. We were starting anew! Whatever story that said Foxes were sneaky and untrustworthy wouldn't come up again, and it wouldn't be passed down from parents to children. People wouldn't look at my red fur and think that I'm up to something. They'd trust me like they'd trust anyone else. Maybe I could be Mayor?
Thinking about it, Dad was the closest thing we had to a mayor.
I smiled as I jogged on towards the edge of the park. Here, as the mud curved around, a future road followed it. On its outer side, Al had planned to build all the shops and things that we would need. After finishing those, he and the builders would move on backwards, up towards the mountain. The Wolf had already marked out three roads, one on the inner banks of the two streams and one up the centre of the town, right in front of the town hall's tower. Going back, he'd then build roads between them, which would have the rest of the houses attached to them.
He seemed to be a very clever wolf, and not a numb-nut at all. However, as I paused and looked on at the argument he was having with my Dad, it seemed like I might have to reconsider that.
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"I don't see why I can't have one Al!"
"Listen John, it's hard work! And if you have one, EVERYONE will want one!"
"Oh come on, what's hard about a roof light!"
"I'll tell you what's wrong! We have at our disposal the best roofing material on the planet, but you want to replace it with a bit of shoddy plastic!"
"What's wrong with plastic? We're using it for the other windows!"
"The other windows, Mr Wilde" Al began to explain, groaning and tired as he raised his paw to gesture. "Are all vertical. That means the water hitting it flows down. Now, the roof lights you want are at an angle, meaning…"
"The water STILL flows down," Dad urged, "and this acrylic is water proof. What's the problem?"
"The problem," the Wolf snorted, "is what happens when roof light meets roof!"
Dad opened his mouth, ready to say something really smart, only to pause for some strange reason. Al, meanwhile, just looked there with an annoying smug grin on his mouth. They stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before Dad shrugged and finally spoke. "Well WHAT happens when roof light meets roof?"
"Well, John. If we put the roof light under the tiles, the water running onto the window from above, and the stuff falling onto it, will flow under the tiles at its base and into your house."
"I'm assuming that's bad," Dad mumbled, before his face lit up with an idea. "Why don't you put it over the tiles?"
"Because then John," Al said, a giant cheeky grin on his muzzle, "Water from above the window and the sides will flow under it, get in and… want to guess?"
"I'll admit here that that's bad," Dad muttered, before shouting out yet another of his great ideas. "Why don't you put the plastic both above and under the tiles."
Al just facepalmed at the idea, muttering some rude words under his breath before looking up at John. "It's a big sheet of plastic. It doesn't work like that."
"Why not?
"Because it just doesn't OK? Listen, you make clothes, right?"
"Yes…"
"Now, surely you'll agree that there are some things that are either impossible or really hard to do with clothes and fabric and stuff, right?"
My Dad gave Al that look followed by a cheeky wink. "Nothing that a bit of ingenuity can't fix!"
The Wolf just grunted, and bared his fangs at Dad as he gathered himself up. I suddenly felt scared, looking at the size difference between the two, and I flinched back as the larger Canine began to shout. "YOU'RE AN EXPERT JOHN! A PROFESSIONAL! I'M JUST MUSCLE FOR HIRE FROM A CONSTRUCTION SITE WHO'SE READ A FEW BOOKS! PLEASE… STOP MAKING LIFE HARD FOR ME!"
I unclenched, as did Dad, as the Wolf turned heel and began stomping away.
"Can't we just waterproof it…?"
Al stopped in his tracks, almost springing back and forth like a spring as he planted his feet firmly in the ground.
"I mean, back in Zootopia there are plenty of roof lights!"
Al spun around to face Dad, his tired eyes looking very impatient.
"I mean, it can't be that hard!"
Rolling his eyes, the Wolf turned to his left to gesture at the building site behind them. The bare rock on the ground had already been cleaned off, with the walls of the first floor already most of the way complete. The Lupine, however, seemed more interested in the large chimney at the back which he walked over to and leant on.
"See this chimney stack? The one you'll be using every day in winter, what with your fire burning at full pelt. Well, do you know how I've stopped water leaking through it and into the walls of your house?"
"…No…"
"Simple… it's not part of your house. It's a separate building! The only connection it makes are at the bottom where the burner will go. That's surrounded by the only waterproof material I could find, a custom cut, thin as you can get it, successful only after ten failed attempts bit of slate laid flush with the house walls. Now, I'm not going to lie, I should have guessed that we would need some lead for flashing, and I thought the metal sheeting we'd originally brought for roofing would do, but unless you've got a nice lead mine nearby and a talent for metalworking, this is the best we've got! Now, if you will excuse me, I've…"
Al paused suddenly and just stood there, starting to chuckle and then bending over, full blown laughing. Dad, looking very confused, stepped forward to check with him but Al just held his paw up. "Don't worry John! I've worked out a solution, and I'll assure you! You'll have more roof lights than you can imagine! Just don't complain to me that it's not what you had in mind…"
And with that, he left to check on some other work. The strange confrontation over, I walked forward to check on Dad and to see what our new house would look like.
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Stepping between the two sides of our future front door, I looked around at what would be our new store. Unlike our old home, the inside walls were made of the same material as the outer walls, the long thin slabs of mountain rock which had been cemented into place. The floor was made of the same stuff too, albeit big flat tiles. Even though it had been in the sun all day, they still felt cold on my paw pads.
"Dad… won't the floor be freezing in winter?"
He nodded and smiled. "It will be, but don't worry. Come summer we'll be collecting everyone's old winter fur, and making some nice rugs out of them. The top floor's floor will be like the one in the barn, made out of wood. Look here, you can see one of the pillars that will support the beams!"
As he leant on one of the big bits of wall jutting from the main back wall, one of several dotted around the place, I turned to take the whole building in. It was about the same size as our store area back in Happytown, so it wasn't too bad. Turning and going past Dad, I went into the back and immediately stopped, seeing as there was no floor. Where the big stone tiles had been, there was nothing. Instead, just the bedrock with many little walls or pillars sprouting out of it, likely there to support the tiles when they were put in.
"This is our future lounge Nick!" Dad announced, as he hopped past me and made his way through the pillars and towards the big fireplace at the back. In our old place, we'd just had some stairs at the back of the store. Here, however, we had a lounge twice the size of the one back home. Wandering towards Dad, I paused as he picked me up and lifted me onto the stone wall. Balancing myself, I realised that it wasn't one wall by two, separated by a small gap, apart from the odd connecting bit of metal, by the looks of it a brass nail, here and there.
"Looking at the cavity, Son? Al says it's to stop water getting in… I mean seriously, you'd think he's afraid of the stuff. What harm can a little rain do?"
I giggle back in return and turn to look at the fireplace. Sure enough, Al was right. The big fireplace was separate from the rest of the building, with an continuous line of rock separating it from the rest of the building. Just like the door and windows on the town hall, the gap giving us access to the fireplace from the lounge had a big arch over it. Both house walls, inner and outer, and a connecting bit in the middle which slanted towards the outside also had the same arch. Pausing and twitching my mouth, I look down at Dad who was over by what I guessed would become the stairs.
"Dad?"
"Yes Son?"
"Are all the Windows and Doors going to be arched?"
"… That's what I argued with Al about yesterday!"
I couldn't help myself but giggle. "But I want a flat door!"
He guffawed back, before turning to look at me. "Said it was because, otherwise, the weight of everything above would cause the windows and doors to collapse!"
"Seriously! I think he's afraid of that! What harm can a little collapse do! Back in Zootopia, they have flat doors and windows. Why can't we have them!"
Dad managed to stop chuckling for a bit and made his voice as gruff as he could make it. Stretching himself up, he started his best, hammiest, Al impersonation possible. "Nope! We'd need TWO massive chunks of stone for that! Do you know how much effort it'll be to cut and move THAT! Now, I'm sorry I forget them there 'Metal Lintels' back in Zootopia, but this here Slate arch is the best we've got!"
Both of us couldn't help our giggles, especially when I realised something.
"Wait, You're Al now Dad!"
"I suppose I am, what are…"
"AWOOOOOOOO!"
As I howled out aloud, straining my lungs as hard as I could. Dad shrugged before joining in with his own "AWOOOOOO!"
Both of us howled out until we were almost out of breath, descending into giggles when we finished. But when we heard the third "AWOOOOO" off in the distance, followed by a very clear and angry "SCREW YOU JOHN!", we burst into a full-out fit of laughter.
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AN: For those who haven't clocked it, I named the big Wolf Al after the character from Weavers packstreet. Although they share the same name, species and same old job, that's about where their similarities end.
I added in the bit at the end because I wanted to show that John Wilde isn't a perfect character (though Nick, being just a few days younger than 9 in this chapter, can't see that). In my view, he's very optimistic and ambitious. That led him to lead the settlers, but at the same time it means that he can ask people to do things which are not possible, overestimating the effort and time they take significantly. Also, he can't do DIY. Sure he can thread needles and sew things together very well, but give him a hammer and all hell breaks loose.
He used to have a pair of pliers.
When Nick was born, Marie threw them out in order to protect him.
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The settlers landed in an area with big slate deposits which, due to how it can be cut and split into thin sheets, makes it an excellent roofing material. If it weren't for the fact that it allows water to seep in along the same cracks that make it excellent for roofing, then it would be a great building material too (given that it can be easily cut into 'bricks'). Fortunately, by building the house with a cavity wall that issue is pretty much removed.
Had they not had the slate, the settlers would likely stay in their boat for much longer and build their houses out of wood and basic homemade bricks. The one problem with timber is that it should be left for up to a year to season (let the sap and moisture dry out). As a result, when they found they had slate they jumped on the opportunity.
