The Other Side of the Coin
There was crowding and shouting... It was so loud, but it Johnathan Miller believed in what he was taking part in. "Hey, Jack! Help me with this!" Called a voice nearby, it belonged to a fox who John had met from time to time. He was pushing one of the larger crates toward the edge of the ship. John smirked and ran over to him, both of them managing to lift it off the ground and throw it over the edge of the ship, where it made a loud splash with several other crates. Cries of triumph erupted around him, men hung from the ropes connected to the masts, shaking their fists at the sky. Many threw their hats and called down to the people in the streets. The wolf took off his own hat and he and a nearby Son of Liberty embraced in victory. After some time, people began to disperse, but many of the Sons stayed behind on the pier, drinking and celebrating their victory. They talked of going down in the history books, of being the ones who retaliated against the tyrannical British.
John thought with slight laughter at the fact that only a short while ago, he'd been living in England. It had been nearly two years since he left, coming to America after having lost his job as a journalist for a newspaper. He hopped aboard a ship and came to New England in hopes to make a new life for himself, he'd had little family left in his home country and only a few friends who were sad to see him leave. They'd all tried to keep him there, but he insisted on going out to try something new. He was taken in by the Boston Gazette for his passionate style a few weeks after arriving. He'd quickly fallen in love with the optimism and concepts which the New Englanders had adopted, and he got on board with their ideas of liberty. He didn't think of himself at all as a traitor, and he did not blame the crown for what the wrongful taxation on the Americas, he just believed that it was difficult to fairly govern from so far away in such a manner.
The wolf lifted his bottle of liquor and shouted out, "For liberty!" There were several cries of a similar toast around him as many began to sing songs of triumph, though it was a little difficult to make out, as many of them were drunk.
"Hey, Jack," A familiar voice began, sitting down on a barrel near the wolf. It was the fox from before, Michael. "Some day..." He said tiredly, clinking his bottle to John's, "Do you... Do you really think we can do this? I mean... All of this? To break away from the crown? They have so much, and we have so little..."
"Mike," The wolf started, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, though he was clearly losing his own balance. "They have the money and the guns, but we've got something they don't. Spirit," He said confidently, a smile on his face. "And I don't just mean this stuff," Johnathan stated jokingly, holding up and shaking his bottle slightly. "If people believe strongly enough in something, they'll take it, and nothing can get in their way. All we need is the drive, and we've got that by the barrel," He stated, taking another swig from his bottle. "Plus, we've got something worth fighting for... To them, this is just a piece of land, for us... this is our home, and we'll take it or happily give our lives trying."
"Hear, hear!" Cried a voice from another circle; a coyote named Donovan. "An' we got twice the brains o' them redcoats too!" He said with a hardy laugh, downing a large drink of his alcohol.