Post by Bixir on Apr 28, 2023 17:02:15 GMT
“Put your back into it, lad!”
The hoarse voice was no stranger to Tristan, nor the quickened manner in which it addressed him. For all his skill with the needle, Colin Weaver had been built like an ox from an early age. These days, the man in his older years could very well wrestle one of those things. The briefest of breaths passed Colin’s lips as he hefted a particularly large bale of hay into a nearby barrow, nearly full. The one over by his son… wasn’t.
It was a chill autumn day, though morning was a better word for it. Early morning, even. It was hardly past the crack of dawn, much earlier before they would normally start work, and not this kind, either. They were out by the farmsteads, on the outskirts of Nymphsfield. Tristan’s awakening was a bit of a rude one, but Colin had insisted. It was the mark of a proper community who lent a hand to one another in time of need. The coming winter was going to be especially hard on the Croftons.
The hoarse voice was no stranger to Tristan, nor the quickened manner in which it addressed him. For all his skill with the needle, Colin Weaver had been built like an ox from an early age. These days, the man in his older years could very well wrestle one of those things. The briefest of breaths passed Colin’s lips as he hefted a particularly large bale of hay into a nearby barrow, nearly full. The one over by his son… wasn’t.
It was a chill autumn day, though morning was a better word for it. Early morning, even. It was hardly past the crack of dawn, much earlier before they would normally start work, and not this kind, either. They were out by the farmsteads, on the outskirts of Nymphsfield. Tristan’s awakening was a bit of a rude one, but Colin had insisted. It was the mark of a proper community who lent a hand to one another in time of need. The coming winter was going to be especially hard on the Croftons.
