After the heartfelt discussion with his mate, he was too wound up to sit still. Besides, the idea of the boat was getting to him. He threw on a red flannel shirt over his carpenter jeans, and dug his hammer out of a drawer in the kitchen and slipped it through the strap on the jeans. The shirt was to keep the bite of the wind from him. While he was mostly an arctic wolf and built for the cold, there was something in his heritage that made him strongly dislike the cold winter chill. It didn't seem too windy, though, which was nice.
On his way to the beach where they were to build the boat, he stopped at Tameri's grave. He touched the cairn of stones lightly. "Hey baby girl. Daddy's going to go work on the boat. Wish you could see it, I think you would have enjoyed watching us build it. You might have even helped us if you could shift. I know you're watching over us though. Not a day doesn't go by when we don't think of you." It was as if he could feel her rub against his legs, the way she loved to greet him. A bittersweet smile crossed his lips, and he continued on his way to the beach.
Skye had taken the books home, but some, himself included, had elected to borrow one to read up on. His was on the more technical aspects of boat building, so he felt qualified -sort of- to start work. He was sitting on a stone, using a plane and chisel to smooth a piece of wood to just the right curve, when it occurred to him the others would probably like to help. After all, it was supposed to be a pack project. For a moment, he was annoyed with himself. It was a long trek back to Skye's house to have her call everyone. Then he remembered his position as a council member, along with his mate, and he grinned crookedly.
The howl was short and simple, and very inviting. After letting the call loose, he resumed his work on the piece of wood he was working on. While he'd been a little rusty at first, since he hadn't really done anything since the caravan, the curve of the wood was clear. He referred to the diagram and back to the piece he was working on, a smile of satisfaction on his lips, his tail wagging. He set the piece down and began working on another piece to match the first. They were a bit rough, but the sanding would come later, after the rough skeleton was formed. The smell of the wood and the water filled his nostrils, the sounds of birds in the forest behind him and the body of water in front of him filled his ears.
He looked forward to others coming and helping. Those who had worked on the caravan had seemed closer afterward, hopefully the boat would fulfill the same function. After all, D'Arte was founded on love of art, he'd been told, so the boat was an art that would draw everyone close again.
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