[PQ] Sheep shifting [seasonal event]

Peter was relieved to be given his task first. It meant that he could move away from the other two men and watch from what felt like a safer distance as they received their jobs. Adam was a surprise to see, from the short, vaguely difficult to remember meeting they’d had, he hasn’t exactly seemed like the most altruistic person. And it wasn’t any easier to trust him with whatever the big lizard on his shoulders was. The other man however, was a complete mystery. There was a number of things Peter could assume about him, just based on the way he looked, and none of them were charitable. He did seem to know Adam, though Peter wasn’t sure if that was a positive or a negative. The instructions he had been left with were simple enough. Sort sheep. It would be slow, at least until the other made some progress, so he was glad to see the sagging gates on one of the pens. Less glad to see the giant, writhing works in front of the opposite one, but they should be manageable, hopefully. The largest one of them was nearly as large as he was tall. The fence seemed the easier problem to start with. Peter would never admit to being the handiest person, but in a pinch he had always been able to figure things out. The hinge of the fence was broken, the metal twisted and pulled away from the wood. He could only assume it was caused by the force of the sheep pressing against it. The hinge seemed simple enough to replicate, his hands moving as if to pluck it out of the air when paused. If he made the hinge, he would still need tools to attach it, and the strength to use them. Maybe he could do that for Maea eventually, but not now, when he was alone trying to figure it out. An idea came to him after a few moments of staring at the fence, and a spook of wire appeared in his hands, thin enough to bend but sturdy enough that it would be difficult to break. After making a quick loop around the fence post, Peter wrapped it around the gate, going around and around the gate swung freely again. It wasn’t pretty, but it would certainly work, and hold up until it could be repaired properly. Now there was the issue of the worms. Maea had called them something specific, something he couldn’t remember at the moment. Peter stared at the them, enough distance between him and the puddle that he wouldn’t disturb them, and tried to figure out a plan. They seemed unwilling to leave the puddle, but maybe if he filled it in they would disperse on their own? It was worth trying. Peter went off to see if he could find a bucket, and some loose soil, keeping his eyes and ears open in case anyway came back. Peter Perfectly able to hold my own hand, But I still can’t kiss my own neck;