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The boy said nothing, but Larkspur did not mistake his silence for stupidity. He was wise enough to recognize that not everyone was vocal in their communication—he and his son, for example. Still, he could not expect the boy to know what to do and so Larkspur hefted the beam in his hands up and into the notch cut for its position along the top of the railing. It was a simple design. Poles lines every five or so feet, and two longer beams were placed to form a shape similar to |=|. There was enough of a gap for small animals to get in and out, and this was where his concern lay.
“Sheep ‘r stupid,” he explained with a heavy huff, leaning against the beam to test its strength. “They’ll try n’ fit through th’ fence if they can. They’ll eat pretty much everythin’ too, so I don’t know what’d keep ‘em away from this.” It was a problem he did not fully grasp how to solve. Anathema’s caves had been an easy work for their shepherd, but Larkspur was faced with the grand problem of building one from scratch.
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