DAMIEN
I know it's been a long time coming
I'm angry and I know that's weak
I'm angry and I know that's weak
Damien crouched low, gloved fingers brushing the crust of ice that clung stubbornly to the roofline. What at first glance had looked like a simple patch job revealed itself to be deeper rot, frost having wormed its way into the beams beneath. He set his jaw and adjusted his grip on the hammer, working slow and steady. The sound was different here than it had been earlier—less hollow, more brittle—as each blow chipped away not just at the frost, but at the secrets it hid. Splinters flaked loose with every strike, and soon he had to pry out pieces of wood softened to pulp by thaw and freeze.
It was tedious work, but leaving it meant the whole roof would sag again within a season. He would not waste effort on half-measures. Better to take the time now, strip it clean, and shore it with something sound.
He heard Noah’s voice carry up from below, and he spared a glance over the edge of the roof. The hearth next. A sensible choice—one couldn’t do without a fire in Halo. Damien gave a short nod of acknowledgment and lifted the claw end of his hammer to wrench free another rotted strip. “Might take me a bit yet,” he called down, voice low but carrying enough.
With that, Damien turned back to the task at hand, chipping and clearing until the beams showed clean again beneath the frost. It wasn’t fast, but the work would hold. That was what mattered.
Damien tries to root out the rotted wood!
It was tedious work, but leaving it meant the whole roof would sag again within a season. He would not waste effort on half-measures. Better to take the time now, strip it clean, and shore it with something sound.
He heard Noah’s voice carry up from below, and he spared a glance over the edge of the roof. The hearth next. A sensible choice—one couldn’t do without a fire in Halo. Damien gave a short nod of acknowledgment and lifted the claw end of his hammer to wrench free another rotted strip. “Might take me a bit yet,” he called down, voice low but carrying enough.
With that, Damien turned back to the task at hand, chipping and clearing until the beams showed clean again beneath the frost. It wasn’t fast, but the work would hold. That was what mattered.
Damien tries to root out the rotted wood!
And I'm longing out that open window
For whatever it is I seek
For whatever it is I seek
