the way they always do, When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
He stood as X'yrin took back her hand, electing not to see the look she gave him through her bangs. The moment, if there had been one, had passed, and it was back to business. X'yrin settled the child in a sling of sorts near her chest, and asked where they would begin. He considered it for a moment and then decided on a course of action. He climbed up into the wagon, his eyes casting about for what he was searching for, and then he pulled a short and partially rusty handsaw from the back of the wagon, along with two smaller chunks of wood and a small, dark object: a stick of charcoal. He placed the saw on the ground and then moved to the wood. Eyeing each piece, he placed a thick dark line near the center of each, six in all.
Turning to X'yrin, he spoke for the first time in several moments. If you can cut these pieces of wood with th' saw, carefully, I'll start digging holes for th' posts t' fit down into. A back and forth motion should cut through like water through a canyon. He would do the digging by paw; it would not be as easy as with a tool, but it could be done. Without particularly waiting for her reply, Asgeir moved just a short distance away and began scraping dirt and grass away with his claws, far enough away from the opening of the cave that the wind would not easily carry the smell of the pen to the dens, but near enough that the animals could be herded easily once the pen was finished.
He put his back into the digging, kneeling on the ground and scraping a mostly cylindrical hole out of the earth, placing his arm in from time to time. Any stones he came across were piled to one side; he'd need them. When he measured the first hole and it was as deep as from knuckles to just above Asgeir's elbow, he moved on, walking about a horse length before kneeling to begin the next hole. He kept his ears back, listening for X'yrin's voice, should she need any help with sawing the wood. He could hear the sound of the teeth chewing through the wood, back and forth.
You just wish the trip was through
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