The gentle scrape of the knife against the wood filled the room. Despite the man’s calloused hands, he worked with gentle precision — first notching the base of the spoon then carving one across it. When satisfied, he raised it to his face, blowing softly on the spoon; sending the fine dust and tiny wood chips in the air. Rubbing the last of the dust off, he dipped his finger in a small wooden bowl with red ink. The soft mush of the crushed red leaves clung to his finger as he traced along the carving, the colour seeping into the engraved grooves. Â
ExplanationÂ
Rune carving in the quiet evening is a common sight in Thrymoria. Runes aren’t only for weapons but everyday items like brooms, pots and cribs. A well-placed rune on a broom might help it sweep thoroughly every nook and cranny or ensuring the stew never burns in the pot. Mothers mark their baby’s cribs with protection runes against the harsh cold winds and evil spirits.  My own oc has runes carved on her spear for protection and accuracy – though after a miss it sparks heated debates if it works around the fire. Â
Another slice of life moment. After the war in my fantasy world my oc and her sister were taken in by a centaur couple. My oc's sister made a small protection rune on their pot which I find very cute.
The winter in my fantasy land that is inspired by Vikings and Scottish culture.
When the barren hills are covered in snow, many prefer to stay around the fire but the high-pitched laughter of children can be heard from the biggest hill.
During the snowy winter days, the children love to take their parents shields to use as a slide. They know they will be scolded by their parents because shields are meant for war and not for sliding down a hill. Though this does not stop them from sneaking away with the sturdy shields. The older children are carrying the surprisingly heavy shields in pairs and a younger child trying to also help- their small face scrunched up in determination. The children have competition who can slide the fastest and farthest. They make a line of the shields, tying them together like a train before sliding down. It always ends in someone falling out, going backwards or other mishap that leaves the others howling with laughter and running up the hill to go again. Â
The parents fondly roll their eyes as they watch the children zoom down the hill. The parents reminisce about their own younger days when they also had sled down the same hill. As the sun begins to set and the children's mittens and boots are soaked from snow they start to drag themselves back towards their respective longhouse. The parents always have a hot drink ready and a fire burning in the hearth as the children are bundled up in a thick fur blanket in front of the crackling hearth.
Some cute slice of life moment in my fantasy world. Fun to think about my own Oc zooming as a child down the hill and tumbling into a snowbank.
