“ are you saying you can’t do it?”
“Won’t,” Starling said firmly. No doubt they thought it dramatic when she suddenly called out for all of them to stop. There’d been trudging through the brush on the heels of a bounty head for hours, and now they’d have to take a detour, “I’m sayin’ I won’t go no further. Not the same as can’t.”
She turned, and pointed with her lips towards the old overgrown sign that had stopped her. Well weathered, partially covered in vines and moss, most of the words on it were faded or illegible except for two: Wampanoag and Burial.
“We ain’t trackin’ a bounty through someone’s burial grounds,” she frowned and shook her head, “We go around ‘n try and pick up the trail someplace else.”











