(no subject)
There was nothing in the air that morning to make a more commonly trained eye think that change was coming. The same whiff of salt filled the breeze, the same sun beat down from above. Nevertheless, William Bush that a yearly change of season was approaching. Perhaps in a week, perhaps two, winter would be upon them in a flash, if tradition was anything to go by. And though the change would come abruptly, not slowly as it did out in the real world, adjustments still had to be made.
Already that day, William had dragged his boat on shore, cleaned it thoroughly, and put it away in the boathouse, where it would sit for the single month of winter in order to stay protected from the snow (assuming no emergency required it). Hot sun having already baked him well in the process, he had stripped to his undershirt by the time he returned home.
He had another task waiting for him there as well. The island always saw fit to assure the safety of its human residents - but would it do the same for its animals? William wasn't sure. The pen outside his home, built earlier this year to hold the chicks the island had graced him with the previous January, now held half a dozen healthy, egg-laying chickens that would not last for long unsheltered in the cold to come. What he needed to do, at least for a start, was build them a better roof.
He was already deep in his work when he heard someone come up behind him. "Hand me another nail, would you?" William said without even looking up as he pounded the slats together.
Already that day, William had dragged his boat on shore, cleaned it thoroughly, and put it away in the boathouse, where it would sit for the single month of winter in order to stay protected from the snow (assuming no emergency required it). Hot sun having already baked him well in the process, he had stripped to his undershirt by the time he returned home.
He had another task waiting for him there as well. The island always saw fit to assure the safety of its human residents - but would it do the same for its animals? William wasn't sure. The pen outside his home, built earlier this year to hold the chicks the island had graced him with the previous January, now held half a dozen healthy, egg-laying chickens that would not last for long unsheltered in the cold to come. What he needed to do, at least for a start, was build them a better roof.
He was already deep in his work when he heard someone come up behind him. "Hand me another nail, would you?" William said without even looking up as he pounded the slats together.