(no subject)
Stopping for a quick breath, Adam wipes his forehead with his sleeve.
It's not as though this is strictly necessary, winter is still a bit off. It's not even as if he needed have done it, ther are certainly servants enough willing to do so. But there's something reassuring about the heft of the axe in his hands, the solid thwack it makes when it meets the wood. About the calluses he can feel forming on his hands. And when fall turns colder and fires are lit, there'll be a warm comfort to the knowledge that it's because of the work of his hands.
It's not as though this is strictly necessary, winter is still a bit off. It's not even as if he needed have done it, ther are certainly servants enough willing to do so. But there's something reassuring about the heft of the axe in his hands, the solid thwack it makes when it meets the wood. About the calluses he can feel forming on his hands. And when fall turns colder and fires are lit, there'll be a warm comfort to the knowledge that it's because of the work of his hands.