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Archer Kerestone paced up and down the musty halls of the orphanage. They called it a foster home, but there were lots of kids here, and none of them were treated as foster children should be. So, he was very excited (and relieved) when he recieved the message the a woman named Daliah Morse was going to take him in.
Walking outside to the sound of a car pulling up on the gravel driveway, he smiled. He was finally out of that building and into another, hopefully, better one. Climbing into the light blue car, he pushed his two suitcases into the back. His social worker, Cynthia, started the car and began the twenty minute trip. "Glad you're not coming from Australia?" She asked, tapping on the wheel. "I guess, but I miss it there. Besides, I'd rather the trip from Australia than living in that dump." His eyes narrowed, but he tried to stay calm.
Archer sighed, and looked out to the landscapes rushing by. Cynthia waited for an awkward moment, and then sighed as well. "You know, at least you weren't there for a long time. You managed." He grumbled softly under his breath. "Two years is a long time. The first home was okay, the second good, but the third? No. I'm glad I'm gone. Not that they'll miss me. Shaking her head, Cynthia frowned. "Okay, not the best wording. But, guess what? Daliah is fostering some other kids as well. You won't get lonel like you did before." Archer rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I just hope that they aren't, like, really small kids. You know what I mean?" Nodding, Cynthia didn't speak any further.
The next ten minutes were spent in silence. Finally, they pulled up at the house. Archer gasped. It was very different from his past homes. Trees and other vegetation flourished in front of the house, and the actual house was amazing. It was very large, and the rush and bustle of modern life was completely lost here. "It's amazing!" Archer breathed, feeling drawn to his new home. "I love it." Running up to the house, he left Cynthia to struggle with his two suitcases.
Knocking gently on the front door, he held his breath with anticipation. The door swung open quietly, and a kind-looking woman stood in the frame. "Well, hello. My name is Daliah Morse, but just call me Daliah. You are...? Archer smiled happily. "I'm Archer. Thanks so much for taking me in. The house is amazing! She smiled kindly, and invited him inside.
Just then, Cynthia joined them with Archer's bags over her shoulder. She handed him the bags. Puffing, she asked, "What are in those things!?" He grinned and stepped inside. Following suit, Cynthia held out her hand to Daliah. "My name is Cynthia Rheddson, and this is my charge Archer Kerestone. I hope that he won't give you any trouble at all. All of his past homes have had very good things to say about him, and I expect the same here." The last statement was directed at Archer, and he smiled.
"I am very sorry, but I have to go. There is a very important event that I must make it to on time. Goodbye and have fun!" She walked back out to the car, leaving Archer and Daliah in the entryway. "Your room is right this way. I hope you like it. I used everything I know about you. And here it is!"
Archer opened the door. The room was perfect; just how he wished it would be. Dropping his suitcases on the bed, he laughed. Quickly unpacking, Archer smiled as he kept finding new aspects of the room. As soon as he finished, he sat down on the huge bed. He felt a small tug on himself, like an invisible rope was attached to his hand. He followed it, going through the house until he arrived at what he presumed was the kitchen.
A girl with blonde hair was sitting on the counter, and nearby was a boy with sandy blonde hair. Hale. Archer was confused that the name had come to him so quickly. Recovering, Archer approached the beautiful white German Shepherd next to Hale. "Uh, hey guys. Are you being fostered too?" Petting the dog, Archer smiled up at the two teens. He stood up, brushing white fur off of his jeans. "My name's Archer."