Damien
"I never see you at the club!"
Okay? I never see you at the creek
Okay? I never see you at the creek
Damien hauled a plank up onto his shoulder, the rough grain biting through his gloves, and set it across the rafters Thorn had just cut to size. The work was awkward—balancing high above the snow, hammer ringing sharp against wood—but steady, one board after another, until the frame thickened into something solid overhead. He spared a glance down now and again, catching Theea clambering nimble as a squirrel along the joints, smearing moss and pitch into seams with a grin fierce enough to shame the cold. The sight earned her a faint shake of his head, more amused than disapproving.
By the time the last board was dropped into place, the cabin looked less like a dream and more like a fact. Because Deimos had carved the earth clean, the posts held fast; because Marcus had lent stubborn strength beam after beam, the skeleton stood true; because Theea’s sealant gleamed dark in the joints, the roof promised to keep the frost at bay; and because Thorn’s sharp angles guided Damien’s own cuts, the A-frame rose exactly as it had been sketched. No piece perfect on its own, but together—together it was enough.
Damien climbed down at last, boots crunching back into the snow. He stood a moment with arms folded, eyes traveling from the peak down to the squared lines of the walls, and nodded once. “This’ll hold,” he said, quiet conviction grounding the words. “Deepfrost won’t touch it. We’ve done good here.”
He let the silence after hang long enough for each of them to feel the weight of what stood behind him: a cabin, a workshop, a foothold in the Greenwing that hadn’t been there before. Then he tipped his head toward the fire still smoldering in the pit. “Come on. Let's warm up and eat before heading out. I think Hawthorn brought some snacks as well.” And combined, there would be plenty for everyone to refuel for their journeys home.
Damien will take the leftover task of placing roofing boards, and with that...
This concludes the PQ! Cheers! :)
[FIN]
By the time the last board was dropped into place, the cabin looked less like a dream and more like a fact. Because Deimos had carved the earth clean, the posts held fast; because Marcus had lent stubborn strength beam after beam, the skeleton stood true; because Theea’s sealant gleamed dark in the joints, the roof promised to keep the frost at bay; and because Thorn’s sharp angles guided Damien’s own cuts, the A-frame rose exactly as it had been sketched. No piece perfect on its own, but together—together it was enough.
Damien climbed down at last, boots crunching back into the snow. He stood a moment with arms folded, eyes traveling from the peak down to the squared lines of the walls, and nodded once. “This’ll hold,” he said, quiet conviction grounding the words. “Deepfrost won’t touch it. We’ve done good here.”
He let the silence after hang long enough for each of them to feel the weight of what stood behind him: a cabin, a workshop, a foothold in the Greenwing that hadn’t been there before. Then he tipped his head toward the fire still smoldering in the pit. “Come on. Let's warm up and eat before heading out. I think Hawthorn brought some snacks as well.” And combined, there would be plenty for everyone to refuel for their journeys home.
Damien will take the leftover task of placing roofing boards, and with that...
This concludes the PQ! Cheers! :)
[FIN]
