07-13-2011, 05:07 AM
Shawchert had taken refuge in the treetop Terrace, ever since he learned about it he was interested, especially when he heard it had the vantage point of the whole pack. When he first saw it, he knew instantly that it needed a lot of work, and that was what Shaw needed to do, if he wasn't trying to woo Sky, who had offered him a room, by leaving her flowers and herbs at her doorstep each morning; he was out walking the borders, and now that he'd found his future home, he was building in the trees, making huts tall enough even for him to stand comfortably in. It would take him a while to finish, but when done, it would be a maze in the trees that any Luperci would die to enjoy. He could tell no one else had lain residence here, and now he was sure he could enjoy himself some solitude, though not entirely with Demetrius around, and make sure he got back on track. Today he was replacing one of the bridges, it was missing many of the steps and was quite dangerous, he'd already made the actual bridge below, but he would use a pulley system to finish getting it put up and secured. It would take him some time alone, and he did wish he had someone to help with at least this part.
He pulled one end of t he bridge which had been attached to a rope that he was pulling ove a branch, he had no elaborate pulley system, and he knew the rope he was using now could possibly only be used twice, one for one side, the other for the far side. He pulled, feeling hot, and panting as he worked, but he loved the strain that the whole job gave him, it helped build his muscles. He was a happy wolf when he was working, though he would be happiest just playing a tune, he had not touched his flute for some time. It lay on his chest, well oiled, but lifeless.
He pulled one end of t he bridge which had been attached to a rope that he was pulling ove a branch, he had no elaborate pulley system, and he knew the rope he was using now could possibly only be used twice, one for one side, the other for the far side. He pulled, feeling hot, and panting as he worked, but he loved the strain that the whole job gave him, it helped build his muscles. He was a happy wolf when he was working, though he would be happiest just playing a tune, he had not touched his flute for some time. It lay on his chest, well oiled, but lifeless.