She couldn't believe how big they had grown in such a short amount of time. Watching them wobble about on uncertain feet, investigating their surroundings had been a pleasure she had never gotten to witness before. Jaden had never succeeded in walking on his own. She took a moment and lowered her head in silence for those of her womb that had never even begun to live. Her children were vibrant and alive and that was the best she could hope for. Nate-River was like Frodo in his talkative personality whilst Payne was a lot more quiet and subdued than her excitable brother. She suspected heavily that Payne was not Frodo's for despite being bigger than her brother Payne held a lankiness to her form suggesting that she had more than Nate-River's 25 percentage of coyote heritage. The brown spots on her coat were a puzzle and reminded her of Jaden's white speckles. Her eyes although still puppy blue had shown no indication they would be anything but blue while Nate-River's had already turned black.
On this day Frodo was caring for them both at her home while she attended her fire tending duties, and her duty to the Great Fire. The other fire tender of the skilled level was nowhere to be found which was something unusual because she was normally nearby. It was from her that Gemma had learned proper care of the fire, and her sense of pride. Gemma entered the town hall with a frown on her face to find the wood stock for the residents of AniWaya to use was running low as well as well as logs to fuel the Great Fire.
With a small sad sigh she picked up one of the woodcutting axes, a spare in case hers broke so she wouldn't have to the town hall and a rawhide tie for dragging the wood along behind her. Her injuries refused to allow her to carry the heavy lots for any significant distance, her ribs throbbed with just the action of walking and carrying the metal tools. Gemma was a rather okay height for a woman, especially one with half coyote blood flowing in her veins but she was slim of frame and without a whole lot os strength to her which was she disliked cutting the wood most out of all her duties, it generally tended to take her a vast majority of the day and leave her incredibly tired and sore, more so now that she had children to take care of.
It didn't take her long to find a suitable looking tree of the right kind and the woman let her axe fly with precise strokes. Her concentration was fierce and she ignored her lingering pain and discomfort. It took a while but the tree toppled with a finality that was permanent. This plant's life taken to fuel the hope and cultural strength of the tribe. It always saddened her even though it was just a tree she still felt as though their lives were as important as her own. Pushing aside her own melancholy she continued to hack at the dying wood until she had stripped it of branches which she placed to the side and continued to chop it until about half the tree sat into logs roughly two feet long. With a long suffering breath Gemma tied the rawhide about it and began the back breaking work of dragging it back to the town hall.
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