damn mosquitos
Muttering to himself John Kelly stepped through the forest. The stupid wardens and other prisoners moved much too fast for his pace, well his iron chained self that was. His eyes still burned from the sudden burst of sunlight and his legs wobbled with each step. From what he could tell Australia was the devil's country, there wasn't a sign of civilization in the entire place and it was bloody sweltering. Had one little chicken really been worth this much?
He tripped over a root then swore. Grumbling he brought himself to his feet then continued to trudge on. After some scolding and some rules he didn't bother to pay attention to the wardens lead them to their cabins.
Finally some sleep. He was surprised to find children occupying his new living quarters-well somewhat children. They had the bodies and voices of babes but their faces were weathered and muscles were developed before their time.
What kind of work did he get himself into?
He didn't bother to make niceties and rolled into bed. Despite his determination to run off these boys until the end of his five year sentence he couldn't help but notice one particular lad. He was quiet content to doodle some girl's name on the back of an empty pack of cigarettes but there was a certain presence about the boy. He wasn't handsome or especially ugly, brown haired and all though slightly bow legged stood straight with a certain regalness to him.
Finally the boy turned towards him flashing him a steel cold look. The streets had hardened this lad that he could tell but the rest of him...
"You got a name?" The boy said voice hard but not absolutely meaning it.
"John Kelly."
His face suddenly softened looking almost glad now. "Kelly eh?" He set the empty pack of cigarettes down trading it for a goofy grin. "You're probably related to my girl then, Brianne Kelly from Galway."