Theea
rise to the occasion
I brighten the second I see Deimos, lifting my hand in a wave. “Deimos! Hey.” I call, voice bubbling with a warmth that fogs the cold air.I pivot smoothly to the others, grinning as if we’ve known each other longer than a few heartbeats. “I’m Theea. Glad to meet you.” Hawthorn, Marcus — folded right into the team with a simple smile.
Then
And I set out to prove it. Not by doing just one thing—but two.
I check the fire, but it seems okay. So first, the tools. It’s not enough to sort them—I make them useful. I line them in the order Damien will want: axes closest to the treeline, hammers near where the cabin frame will rise, nails and cord sealed in a tarp to keep them dry. I even try to jab two upright sticks into the ground to form a makeshift rack for saws and hatchets, so no one risks stepping on a blade hidden in the snow. Organization with intention.
But my eyes are always up, scanning the worksite. When Deimos fells his first tree, I’m already dragging a rope into position to mark the boundary of the fall zone, calling out lightly, “No trespassing in here unless you want to be a pancake.” I watch Marcus too. And I scan the treeline diligently every couple of minutes, just watching for something to show up.
It’s a rhythm of oversight and quiet fixes: rethinking tool placement, anticipating hazards before they happen. I may not be hauling logs with brute strength, but I’m keeping everything running smooth—and safe.
Hopefully.
Theea decides to both organize tools and keep an eye out at the same time!
got fears but I face them
