Argul Seeking Shawchert...
#12
Smiling in return he waited politely. He watched the wolf walk away. His only comfort was what he would do to hurt this man, and he would not suspect him. It already seemed as if they were buddying up, and he planned to keep it that way. How appropriate, he thought, to have streaks of red fur, the color of blood, which will be in your future.

“Not a problem. I will get on that right away. I actually have some experience with that!” He smiled; he didn’t outright say he helped Orin. He wanted to see if the man could guess it. He wanted to judge how intelligent Shaw is.

He took the hammer, scouted the area to take in what type of supplies Shaw had for his repair. He promptly picked up some wood and nails and began to board up windows. His form was by no means perfect; he was unaccustomed to this style of repair. His work was not perfect either, but it was suitable and would work well. It served its purpose and was done adequately enough. What may have been the surprising piece to Argul’s work was that he worked fast and hardly stopped. An endurance trained body from a life of living in wilderness; on constant move and alertness. What also helped Argul along were his thoughts. He was able to go into a deep thought during manual labor, letting him ignore muscle aches and a lot of other interferences. He was still alert enough o hold conversations, but it made him work like a drone, continually laboring on.


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