The youths all stared up at this newcomer, their eyes searching his body for the Windmarks he didn't have. It was clear he was no Drykas, and yet, here was, trying to aid them, albeit in a gruff manner. Clearly an outsider. But one stepped forward, a tall boy, covered in black marks reminiscent of flames being carried by the wind. "We have our own woodworkers that could fix this, but I believe they are in town trading goods. If you think you can have it done, and done well, before they get back, you're more than welcome to try Outsider."
Garren smirked, then bent down by the cart, and removed the splintered parts of the axle, studying them. The cuts were made with the grain of the tree, oak it seemed, though low quality oak. The carvings were rough, though smoothed at where the axle rested in its rings. He held the ends up to his eyes, checking their straightness. They were a bit warped near the break, but otherwise it was good work. He wandered off from the group toward the tree line that he'd fled from a few of the boys following. He set down his pack, and with a practiced efficiency, he removed all of his various axes and his carving kit. He set them near a warped elm, keeping only his hatchet. He began wandering through the trees, looking for a young oak. After a few chimes of searching, he found one that had very few flaws, and had the width of his arm.
His eyes searched the tree for everything, looking for rot or cracks in the wood that could ruin it. He then looked into the branches, flicking on his infravision, ensuring no animals were in the tree. Satisfied that there weren't, he looked for dead branches, indications of an unhealthy tree. He then checked the lean of the tree, by stepping far back from the tree and examining it at a distance, finding it leaned a bit to the southeast. The tree wasn't very tall, so he wasn't worried about clearing out a drop zone. The wind was fairly calm today, an easterly breeze, but wouldn't affect the tree much. He brought his hatchet up into both hands, and with a swift motion, did a single chop into the tree, his ears listening close. Thonk. He did a few more of these test chops, all producing similar sounds. The tree was completely alive and healthy it seemed.
He moved to the southeastern face of the tree, which is where it would fall. He moved to the right of the face, planted his feet perpendicular to the face, and then began his warm up swings. He exaggerated the swings, to stretch out his shoulders, back, and hips. His muscles thoroughly awake and stretched, he started with the initial cut. He had to cut a notch in this side of the tree, about halfway through, and ensure the cut wouldn't be too wide. Swinging from his hips, his arms swung the axe hard, the blade thonking perfectly level at the height of his thighs, just above his knees. He kept his sharp eyes on the start of his notch, then repeated the swing, working his best to keep his chops in the narrowness of the notch. Swing, thunk, swing, thunk. Slowly the notch grew, until finally it had reached the middle of the tree. |
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