APH: Tis Well
December 14, 1799 around 10 am
The thunder of a horse's hooves against the soft snowy ground was the only thing out of place in the otherwise quiet Virginia countryside. Despite the cutting wind and wet flakes, the bay colored filly charged forward without hesitation, her pace only being matched by the urgency in which her master, Alfred F. Jones, urged her on.
When America had woken up that morning, he thought it was just going to be another winter Saturday. Do some chores, head into town for supplies, write a few letters and get ready for church the next day all while fighting the cold weather. However those hopes had been dashed not more than an hour ago when a messenger from Mt. Vernon arrived at his house with some disturbing news. His old general and first boss as a new nation, George Washington was sick; very sick.
As Alfred and his steed raced toward Mt. Vernon, he tried his best to push his "what ifs" and worst c
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