summer had broken on camp. trees regained their resplendence and grew new shoots, wildflowers stirred from their slumber in vibrant hues. the air was honey gold and rich with the scent of greenery – bark, roots, dirt. amidst all that, in the clearing near the training grounds, lars raised his wood axe over his head before bringing it swiftly down upon a log to halve it.
he huffed. sweat gleamed on his bare torso, slick upon his warm flesh that hungrily soaked up the day’s heat. back home summers were few and far between, so this was close to heaven. he set the freshly cut pieces of lumber aside, then set up a new thick log to split. axe flew up, then down again with a deep thud. as the log fell into two neat halves, lars looked up to spot eyes on him.
the left corner of his lips quirked. atticus. “hope i’m not disturbing your reading time,” lars called out, hefting the axe up to rest it on his shoulder. “need some wood for the library?” he cocked a brow. then a pause.
“i mean actual wood. not, ya’ know.”
@athenianwit