stars won't ever wait for you to watch them fall.

Barrett · 09-25-2011, 02:13 AM

[html]

A giddy, elated feeling washed over Barrett as he smoothed the last shovel-full of earth into place. After a week and a half of steady labour, the stable's foundation was complete. After days of excavating, laying down gravel for drainage, crafting primitive cement from the unearthed clay and harvested wheat stalks, and filling in all of the gaps, they were done. He and the boys celebrated their remarkable achievement with a quick dip in one of the nearby lakes. While Barrett was hardly a fussy wolf, even he felt relieved finally being clean. The dirt made him itchy, and he wasn't too keen on dirtying up the couch, so the past few nights had been spent under the stars or in the greenhouse. Not that he minded, really--but the prospect of a nice, comfy bed tonight was certainly good for morale. For all of their work, they were only through phase one of five. Starting tomorrow, he'd initiate phase two: gathering and preparing lumber and hardware.

But tomorrow wasn't here yet, so the boys enjoyed themselves a well-deserved feast. After bathing, they worked together to round up nine fish--enough for three apiece. Barry started up a fire so they could enjoy a cooked meal, shared his rapidly dwindling supply of salvaged liquor (that fresh vodka couldn't come soon enough), and sent them high into the sky as a show of gratitude for their efforts. Then he told them to get home and rest up. He wouldn't need them for the next few days while he scavenged supplies from the city, but the extra sets of paws would be useful when it came to cutting the beams and planks to length. He would need more hand saws then, too. What else? He ran through a mental checklist several times over while lightly stroking Jøren's nose, gazing into the yawning pit of the stable's basement. It wouldn't be deep enough for a fully-shifted luperci to stand, but it would make a good root cellar. What do you think, Jøren? Look like home yet? The stallion snorted and flicked his tail; Barry chuckled. Soon enough, buddy, he reassured him.

With that, he abandoned the construction site for the evening. The Fjord horse lingered behind, lightly grazing on grass growing in one of the neighbouring lots. Back at the garage, Barry rolled himself a joint and grabbed his guitar. The sun would be setting any minute. He made his way to the rooftop and watched the stellar spectacle, sending curling smoke and lazy riffs its way.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?