[RO] Setting out the plans
Optime | DCG (Irving) | Backdated: April | cNPC: Wesson

Related to [DCG] Pack Project: Residency Restructure. Occurs chronologically after this thread.
After speaking with the Faro and securing their claim on the plot of land, Kubota and Wesson had moved the rest of their belongings from the Inn and into their temporary tent. Thankfully, the pair had yet to accumulate much, and, of what they had, years of practically living in the saddle had made their effects to be rather few. The tent wasn’t exactly luxurious in terms of space, but, it was a place to sleep at night and to have some privacy away from the rest of the Gang while construction was underway.

When daylight broke over the eastern horizon, Kubota rolled out of the pair’s shared tent with a sleepy yawn. The hour was early, and the world was still largely cast in shadow. Dew collected on the grass, and the cool breeze that drifted by the Inciendo was pleasant and filled with the smell of the nearby grass and woodlands. In a few months’ time, it wouldn’t be a makeshift cot that he rolled out of, but, instead, a bed; it wouldn’t be a tent flap he walked through, but an actual door; it wouldn’t be dirt he stood on, but a porch. In a few months’ time.

He had a while still to go.

With a groan and a stretch and a roll of his shoulders, the Mossberg went to work. He gathered up a mallet and a sack full of colorful cloth and wooden stakes he’d collected and made to line out his construction plans. Wesson had left before dawn to go check on the cattle and their new calves, leaving him to start the work alone. He didn’t mind though. The cattle needed to be taken care of, and, if she did it, that meant more hours for him to focus on getting their house finished before autumn arrived.

Kubota started at the far end of the property, outlining the edge of the paddocks that drew close to the treeline. The plan was to build the house first so that the animals wouldn’t be stressed with the construction work, however, to help him with spacing, the Inciendo thought it best to outline all of their amenities in relation to the other. The last thing he wanted was to get half-way done with a build, only to realize this or that was off. Once the house was built, there’d be no going back unless he wanted to wait another year.

He drove the stakes in one after another, lining them roughly where he wanted a fence post to go. As he went along, he tied a colorful piece of cloth to warn of a tripping hazard, as well as to make it easier to find the stakes when he finally got around to building the fences. Kubota had managed to finish up staking out the paddocks, and had been outlining an outside fire pit with stones when Wesson finally returned from her errands with the animals.

She filled him in on how the cattle and Bluegrass was doing, and he told her of what progress he’d made thus far. She walked the perimeter with him to ensure the size of each paddock was to her liking and what she thought would be best for the amount of animals that would be held in each. Wesson mentioned that she wanted some lean-tos before winter hit, and Kubota agreed that the idea was for the best if they wanted their animals to make it through the winter.

They conversed a little on the fire pit, mostly deciding how they wanted to do the stones, be it in a circle or something with straighter sides. Kubota had conveniently left the house floorplan for last, knowing that Wesson would likely appreciate being more involved with it. Kubota laid out the stakes once more, and used some twine to help them better visualize what they had to work with.

A roofed porch was a must-have, and they both agreed that they wanted a decent-sized common area like all of the homes they’d had growing up. A fireplace was a must given how cold their first winter in the Ganglands had been. They decided on two bedrooms of roughly equal sizing, and with the space they had to spare, the decision was made to make a smaller room for storage or something minor-like. With their work and professions, Kubota was fairly certain that it would find greater use as extra storage for their gear and tools for their trade.

By the time they’d made their lines and marked where they’d wanted everything, it was mid-afternoon, and Kubota was reminded that they’d somehow managed to skip out on breakfast and lunch when his stomach interrupted their conversation with a loud, gurgling protest. Wesson and Kubota both stopped mid-sentence to stare at his stomach, but, not a beat later, Wesson’s own stomach gave a shy “me too” reply that had them both laughing.

They secured their dinner for the day, and, as they sat down in the shade to avoid the hot, afternoon sun, a little family of chickadees serenaded them as if welcoming them to the area.

Kubota Mossberg
— The Cowboy —

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