A man can change his stars
W E I K
Seleare Farmstead
As the sun rose into the sky, the various animals upon the farm awoke first. The dew upon the ground still wet from the night before. Covering the entirety of farmstead. Even at this early in the morning, there was work to be done. Farming, for a life such as these three men chose to live, was a working one. Filled every day with the constant work of tending to the animals, and the crops. Maybe working on the off chance, one could work upon the barn in which all of their crop was being held, or the shed in which the animals were kept in the night. However, that is not what I was doing.
Currently, I was heading down the middle of the crops. Walking down the lane in which we kept open. Allowing us to check upon the crops, and clean them of any weeds or the like. My boots caked in mud, and the slacks I wore also covered in the hardened dirt. Being worn day in and day out, the natural color may had once been a deep royal blue, but was now faded, and the hems covered in dried dirt. A slug rife slung over my shoulder. While loaded, it had been fired earlier in the night.
Up across my shoulders, my hands grabbing a hold and carrying the still limp carcass of Vask-Wolf upon them. The four legs draped on either side of me, and my arms up, pulling down to keep the creature secured across my shoulder and neck. A couple times I had to cover up the gunshot wound in it's chest to prevent blood from running down the back of my shirt, but it was too late now for me to care any further. Walking up to the house, I did not hear any noises within. Instead of walking into what was an essentially one room house, barely separated by half walls and a single door to get in and out of the homestead, I stayed outside.
Moving towards the axe that dripped with dew, and the tree stump that it had been kept in, I removed the axe from the stump, and placed it upon the ground. Slowly letting the body of the wolf down onto the stump, I tilted my head to either side. Hearing a couple pops from the strain upon my neck. Walking nearly two kilometers there and back just to find this wolf was difficult enough. However, I had to make sure I could gut it and clean it for food, or jerky before it began to rot. So, begrudgingly, I removed my bush knife from the small of my back, and began to cut it open.
However, before doing so, I pierced the blade into the stump. Knelling down in front of the creature, and began to pray.
"May the life of this wolf be blessed. For who was once alive is now slain. May his soul travel to the heavens, for he served his purpose faithfully, and without complaint. Bless this creature for now it may be used as sustenance for our lives, and bring us a bountiful harvest."
While I never really truly believed in the gods that my father so prayed too, I still did so for his sake. He always seemed to be a little upset when I didn't pray over any of the game we had gotten during the night or on our hunts. Even praying over the food we bought down in the village market to make sure the gods were okay with us feasting upon their creations. It made him feel better, and I was find with uttering the words he had taught me at such a young age.
Upon doing so, I started to grab my knife and was just about to pierce the flesh with the blade when I heard a voice behind me.
"I remember teaching you them words boy."
"Aye, Father. Been a winter or two since I have needed to do so."
"Good on ya for remember em though. Thank you for taking care of dat wolf here."
"Wasn't too difficult."
"With that good eye of yours, I doubt you couldn't hunt even a Dusk Stalker."
"Hunt yes, kill is a different story pa."
"Oh relax. You would be fine."
"You think so?
"I know so. Now get inside and get your brother up. I'll clean up your game."
"Yes, Father."
Stabbing the blade back into the trunk of the stump, I pushed off with my hands and standing up to turn around and face my father. As I passed him, he patted my shoulder and then began to clean up the knife a bit before gutting the Vask-Wolf. I on the other hand, walked into the house. Making sure to take off my boots not to track mud further than the door into the house. There was a single candle lit on the table. The yellow light barely illuminating the room. Enough for me to see, and the rest I could rely on the years I have lived here.
Walking over towards the loft, I climbed up into it. Just so I could hang on the ladder and reach outwards towards Ephraim. Shaking his should a bit and raised my voice enough to wake him, but not to scare him.
"Eah! Eah! Time to wake up."
[member="Ephraim Seleare"],
Seleare Farmstead
As the sun rose into the sky, the various animals upon the farm awoke first. The dew upon the ground still wet from the night before. Covering the entirety of farmstead. Even at this early in the morning, there was work to be done. Farming, for a life such as these three men chose to live, was a working one. Filled every day with the constant work of tending to the animals, and the crops. Maybe working on the off chance, one could work upon the barn in which all of their crop was being held, or the shed in which the animals were kept in the night. However, that is not what I was doing.
Currently, I was heading down the middle of the crops. Walking down the lane in which we kept open. Allowing us to check upon the crops, and clean them of any weeds or the like. My boots caked in mud, and the slacks I wore also covered in the hardened dirt. Being worn day in and day out, the natural color may had once been a deep royal blue, but was now faded, and the hems covered in dried dirt. A slug rife slung over my shoulder. While loaded, it had been fired earlier in the night.
Up across my shoulders, my hands grabbing a hold and carrying the still limp carcass of Vask-Wolf upon them. The four legs draped on either side of me, and my arms up, pulling down to keep the creature secured across my shoulder and neck. A couple times I had to cover up the gunshot wound in it's chest to prevent blood from running down the back of my shirt, but it was too late now for me to care any further. Walking up to the house, I did not hear any noises within. Instead of walking into what was an essentially one room house, barely separated by half walls and a single door to get in and out of the homestead, I stayed outside.
Moving towards the axe that dripped with dew, and the tree stump that it had been kept in, I removed the axe from the stump, and placed it upon the ground. Slowly letting the body of the wolf down onto the stump, I tilted my head to either side. Hearing a couple pops from the strain upon my neck. Walking nearly two kilometers there and back just to find this wolf was difficult enough. However, I had to make sure I could gut it and clean it for food, or jerky before it began to rot. So, begrudgingly, I removed my bush knife from the small of my back, and began to cut it open.
However, before doing so, I pierced the blade into the stump. Knelling down in front of the creature, and began to pray.
"May the life of this wolf be blessed. For who was once alive is now slain. May his soul travel to the heavens, for he served his purpose faithfully, and without complaint. Bless this creature for now it may be used as sustenance for our lives, and bring us a bountiful harvest."
While I never really truly believed in the gods that my father so prayed too, I still did so for his sake. He always seemed to be a little upset when I didn't pray over any of the game we had gotten during the night or on our hunts. Even praying over the food we bought down in the village market to make sure the gods were okay with us feasting upon their creations. It made him feel better, and I was find with uttering the words he had taught me at such a young age.
Upon doing so, I started to grab my knife and was just about to pierce the flesh with the blade when I heard a voice behind me.
"I remember teaching you them words boy."
"Aye, Father. Been a winter or two since I have needed to do so."
"Good on ya for remember em though. Thank you for taking care of dat wolf here."
"Wasn't too difficult."
"With that good eye of yours, I doubt you couldn't hunt even a Dusk Stalker."
"Hunt yes, kill is a different story pa."
"Oh relax. You would be fine."
"You think so?
"I know so. Now get inside and get your brother up. I'll clean up your game."
"Yes, Father."
Stabbing the blade back into the trunk of the stump, I pushed off with my hands and standing up to turn around and face my father. As I passed him, he patted my shoulder and then began to clean up the knife a bit before gutting the Vask-Wolf. I on the other hand, walked into the house. Making sure to take off my boots not to track mud further than the door into the house. There was a single candle lit on the table. The yellow light barely illuminating the room. Enough for me to see, and the rest I could rely on the years I have lived here.
Walking over towards the loft, I climbed up into it. Just so I could hang on the ladder and reach outwards towards Ephraim. Shaking his should a bit and raised my voice enough to wake him, but not to scare him.
"Eah! Eah! Time to wake up."
[member="Ephraim Seleare"],