The scythe slashed again, a large chunk of long grass tumbling to the ground. It had taken him a few weeks to find out the best way to cut the grass, but now Vance could cut down entire fields in a matter of hours. He smiled as he slashed once more, cutting the final few bundles of the unruly grass. He stood up straight and stretched his back, hearing a series of clicks and pops. He let out a satisfied sigh and looked across his handiwork.
The sun shone over the many gentle, rolling hills of his village’s farms. Vance smiled and shielded his eyes from the early morning sun, looking into the quiet village for any sign of his mother. He knew that she would wake up and begin wandering the village soon, as she had always done. When she did, she would see the field that she had been so hung up on cleared. He hoped that this would make the start to her birthday a good one.
He smiled broadly, leaning the scythe over his shoulder and beginning on his way into the village, keen on getting her a present. The field had just been something to make her smile, as the labor meant nothing to him. After years of being the only big man in the village and hard farmwork, he had grown up tall and strong. His tanned skin rippled with lean muscle, showing through his exposed skin. He looked over at the field he had tilled in the dark hours of the morning, his back still throbbing slightly from the effort. Ever since their bull had died in an attack by wolves, he had pulled the plow himself. He thought about taking the money he had made and buying a new bull for the farm, but he knew that was a gift for him and not his mother.
He approached the shed where his mother made him keep all the tools and replaced the scythe on the wall, between the axe and the hoe. He gazed at his father’s axe, still well loved and often used. It was the axe he used to defend his mother from the wolves that killed the bull, as well as the axe he relied on in the winter. In a way, it was his father looking out for him, or at least that was how he felt about the tool. He ran his fingers over the smooth wooden shaft, feeling the history in the very wood itself. He smiled somberly, then turned and left the shed, continuing on toward the village.
He passed through the fields and waved to the many familiar faces of the farmers and the shepherds, who he had come to know well. In his youth, he played with their children when he wasn’t working. He remembered fond memories of the games they would play, all the times he had to rescue the other children when they ventured too far into the dark forests beyond the village. He patted the head of a strong, old ram as he passed, to the ram’s delight. He remembered when he had a ram like that, once upon a time. He had named it Woolsy, for it was a gentle creature. It was that ram’s wool that most of his clothes were still made from. Sadly, it had gotten sick and died a few years ago. He had buried it himself, in the ram’s favorite pasture.
After another moment of walking he finally entered the dirt roads of the village. He passed the many familiar, wooden homes and continued on to the small market they had in the village. The market was located in the main square of the village, where all of the business was conducted. He stared at the few shops they had, feeling the weight of his coin purse. He didn’t have many businesses to choose from and he didn’t have much money to spend. What money he had was usually meant for food for either his mother and him, or the few animals they kept.
First, he considered the cobbler. He had heard from his friend, Edwin, that women were very partial to shoes. But, he had yet to see his mother wear anything other than her favored pair of boots. She went so far as to give away her shoes to her friends, especially if they weren’t practical. He decided against the cobbler with a shake of his head.
Second, he turned his attention to the general store. He knew that the old man there carried most of the goods they would need, from tools to rare brandies from the eastern city of Haldur. He wondered for a moment if that was where he should look for a gift, but he decided against it. His mother couldn’t handle her drink and she didn’t have any need of anything else in the shop.
That left the smith and the tailor to shop at. That was no decision at all to Vance. He felt the weight of the coin purse once more, hearing the saved gold pieces clink together. He remembered the many times he had to haggle and go hungry to save up the money. He had been proud of himself for saving so much, but he didn’t know if it was enough money to shop at the tailor fairly.
“No harm in trying.” Vance said to himself in his rich, baritone voice, a small smile spreading across his face. He walked over to the shop’s windows, gazing in at all the displays of clothes. The displays ranged from quaint and rustic to flamboyant and wealthy. He felt a pit of worry in his stomach, once again questioning if he could even afford anything there. He set his jaw and started toward the door. Just before he reached for the knob, he paused. He noticed how clean the floors were on the other side of the door and how dirty his well used boots were. He flushed at his cheeks slightly, embarrassed at feeling so out of place. He stepped off the doorway and removed the muddy boots, revealing his clean, tanned feet. Now all he had to do was hope they wouldn’t mind him being barefoot. He stepped back onto the doorway and placed his hand on the knob. After another deep breath to cease his embarrassment, he opened the door and entered.
“Ah, hello Vance!” Ruth greeted as she noticed the big man enter. Ruth was in her fifties, but Vance still thought her beautiful. If most disagreed on her beauty in her looks, her actions would win them over. She was a kind, gentle woman, a matronly woman to most of the village youths. He remembered fondly whenever she had calmed him down and helped him take care of his mother when she had gotten sick. She had never married and was often seen sporting a lonesome look, but she was a joy to be around and a pillar in the small community.
“Good morning, Miss Ruth.” Vance returned her greeting with a sheepish smile. He approached the woman, careful not to knock over any of her carefully made displays. She smiled and looked up at him, pulling him into a friendly hug.
“It’s rare indeed anyone finds you here, Dear. What brings you to my humble shop?” Ruth asked him, releasing him from her embrace. She walked over to the counter where she served her customers and sat down, waiting for his response.
“Well, Miss Ruth, you see, it’s Mother’s birthday today. With the festival coming up and all, I thought I should get her something special.” Vance answered her, his fingers playing with the coin purse as he answered. Ruth’s face lit up with realization, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh, I can’t believe I forgot!” She said out loud, her hands covering her mouth. Vance stared back at her, smiling sheepishly. Ruth and his mother had been inseparable in their own youths, but time had driven a wedge between them. Still, they were quite fond of each other. She regained her composure after a moment, then met the gray eyes of Vance, smiling warmly.
“So, you want to get something special for her, eh? What did you have in mind?” She asked, standing from her seat and walking to the opposite side of the counter, where she retrieved a key.
“Well, I was thinking that I should get her something that makes her look beautiful. Something she can enjoy herself in and still feel like a lady from the city. Something she can wear for special things.” Vance answered sheepishly, his thick fingers still playing with the bag of coins. Ruth smiled at him, as if she knew he was going to say that. He had been told he was easy to read. Edwin had said he wore his emotions on his face. Though, he didn’t really enjoy being considered predictable. Ruth walked over to one of the doors on the opposite wall, her magnificent strawberry colored dress swishing as she walked.
“I think I’ve got something to satisfy.” She said in a coy voice as she unlocked the door, the old hinges squealing in protest as she pushed the door open. She smiled over her shoulder and motioned for him to wait there. He nodded his thanks to her with a smile as she passed into the doorway, leaving him alone among the splendor of her creations. He cast a careful eye around himself for a moment, feeling more out of place than he had in a long while. He was dressed in dirty, woolen work clothes and barefoot surrounded by the most beautiful clothing he had ever seen. He let out a heavy sigh as he realized that a simple truth hadn’t changed since his childhood; This was the only place in the village that made him feel self conscious. Thankfully, his embarrassment passed as Ruth returned with a case in her arms and a small box on the top of it. Vance watched as she carried the case past him to the counter, fascinated with the intricate and gentle carvings on the box and case. She placed it down and turned to look at him, smiling another warm, gentle smile, though there was a gleam in her eyes that Vance wasn’t sure if he understood.
“Well, come take a look.” She said in an eager voice, beckoning him closer with a flamboyant gesture. Vance hesitated a moment as he looked down at his own shabby appearance, feeling that approaching it would somehow sully the gift. But, his curiosity won out and he approached the counter, chewing his lip in worry. Please don’t let it be too expensive, he thought to himself as he tugged at the coin purse in his hands. He got to the counter and stared down at the case, his hands feeling suddenly unsuited to opening such a thing. He looked over to Ruth and she motioned for him to continue, the gleam in her eyes still present. He placed his leather coin purse down on the counter and gently opened the case with both his hands. He felt his eyes widen as he saw the contents, his lips pursing slightly as he roved an awestruck eye over Ruth’s handiwork.
The dress was long, meant to cover all the way to the elbows and ankles of a woman. It was a dazzling bright shade of blue, like the afternoon sky in the summer. At the hem of the dress there were designs of small yellow and red flowers, tied together with a thin white lace. The material felt silken under his heavy fingers, which would easily keep his mother comfortable. Vance could feel himself smile in a broad grin, his face wrinkling up in amusement. His mother had only ever worn her usual stained and plain white dress, occasionally covered by a brown leather apron. Now, he would get to see her wear the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. But, at the thought of it being so beautiful, he felt his heart drop into the soles of his feet. Surely he couldn't afford this with the meager funds he had. He turned his head to the still smiling Ruth, hope in his eyes.
“What do you want for it?” Vance asked in a voice that was much more confident that he was, chewing the inside of his cheek as he awaited a response. Ruth smiled another one of her gentle smiles, pressing a finger to her cheek as if she was thinking. After a moment, she grinned and nodded her head, coming to a decision.
“I want you to promise me she’ll wear it. That’s all for the dress.” She said, beaming up at the tall man. He found himself beaming back at her, relief and happiness plain on his face. He gently placed the dress back in the case, being careful not to damage or stain any of the material.
“Now, open the other one.” Ruth said with a twinkle in her eyes, her smile growing even wider. Vance paused for a moment, then looked over to the small box on the counter. He frowned and turned back to her, feeling like he was committing a crime of some sort.
“You don’t have to do that. You’ve already done so much.” Vance said, his eyes scanning over her face. He really didn’t want to take advantage of her generosity, since she was so good to him. Her smile faded and she put her hands on her hips, giving him a pouty look, strangely out of place on her face.
“The dress is your present to her. The other is a present from me.” She said, poking him in the chest with a manicured finger at the end of each word. He looked back to the box, an uncertain smile on his face now. After gazing at it for a moment, he turned back to the woman in front of him, ignoring the look of pouting impatience on her face. He gave the older woman a grin and pulled her into a tight embrace, causing her to let out a surprised noise. After a moment she returned the embrace, patting him on the back softly as she let out a giggle. He broke the embrace, his hands still on her hips as he gave her a grateful look.
“Thank you, Miss Ruth. I’ll make sure she gets it and wears it. Though, I don’t think it’s right for me to be the one to open it.” Vance told her, smiling broadly as he removed his large hands. She smiled at him, putting her own hands back on her hips.
“You better, or I’ll be very cross with you!” She told him, smiling warmly at him. He chuckled lightly and nodded, then gathered the presents up into his arms. He thought about grabbing up the coin purse since it was free, but he decided to leave it. He would just tell her to keep it if she brought it up. After all, his mother always kept money away to enjoy the winter festival, so he wouldn’t need it. He said his goodbyes and left the shop, stopping to put his boots back on before he went to his home. He hummed a happy tune as he continued on his way, wondering what his mother would say when she saw her new presents.
After a short walk, he started to walk up the fields to his cabin. He could tell his mother was awake and active now, as he saw the smoke rising from their chimney. She was probably making breakfast or starting a fire to get rid of the chill in the air, as her usual routine demanded. He walked up to his home, his smile still on his face.
He took a deep breath as he placed his free hand on the door knob, smelling his mother’s stew as he did. He let out a happy sigh, then pushed the door open. He was greeted by the sight he loved more than anything else.
In the main chamber of the cabin his mother sat in her favorite chair, prodding the fire and the cook pot hanging over it. She was in her stained white dress and apron, her graying brown hair pulled back behind her head and out of her face. She turned her slightly wrinkled face toward him, her thin lips twitching upward into a smile and her warm brown eyes boring into him.
“Good morning, Vancy. Come and get your breakfast. I know you must have worked up an appetite, or did the field up and die?” His mother asked with a happy chuckle, a loving smile on her face. He approached her, placing the case and box in the chair opposite her own.
“Happy Birthday, Mother.” He told her as he stooped to give her a peck on the cheek. She patted him on his own cheek for his efforts as he pulled back from her.
“Thank you, Dear,” She said smiling as she gave him a bowl of stew, “I couldn’t have asked for a better present.” Vance took the bowl from her, grinning broadly as the pleasant and familiar smell wafted into his face. He sat down by the fire, warming himself from the cold Autumn air. He sighed happily and ate the stew with his mother, in pleasant silence, watching his mother with an eager stare as he waited for her to look toward the chair opposite herself.
After a moment, his mother finally noticed the cases sitting on the chair. She raised a graying eyebrow at the gifts and shot him an accusatory look, a thin frown appearing on her lips.
“Vance,” she began, “what is that?” she asked, pointing one of her thin fingers to the cases. Vance swallowed the stew in his mouth, then gave her a toothy grin.
“Your presents. One from me and one from Miss Ruth.” He answered, then took another mouthful of the stew. His mother looked at the cases for a long moment, her face a mask of confusion. After a moment, the realization dawned on her and she turned to him with wide eyes, her face shocked and worried.
“You know we can’t afford anything!” She told him in a worried voice, her brows furrowing together. Vance only gave her another one of his toothy grins, waving a flamboyant hand toward her presents.
“I’ve been saving up since your last birthday. I scraped enough together to get you something nice and Ruth sent me along with a gift from her. Don’t worry about the money, I’ve been careful! I already promised Ruth you’d keep it.” Vance told her joyfully, beaming with pride at his own accomplishment. His mother turned her head between him and the gifts, unsure what to say. This was the first time he had ever been able to buy her something for her birthday and it had taken him seventeen years. He was sure she wasn’t expecting a gift, but he loved to surprise her when he could. After a moment, she gave him another smile, a genuine and thankful smile.
“Thank you, Vancy.” She said in a touched voice, standing up and walking over to him. She crouched down beside him and gave him a tight embrace, which he gladly returned with a chuckle. She broke the embrace to look at the cases, her eyes curious.
“Open them, they’re for you after all.” Vance told her, a broad smile on his face. She smiled at him and stood, walking over to the presents. She was trying to hide it, but Vance could tell that she was excited to open them.
First, she opened the case containing the dress, her mouth dropping open and her eyes going wide. She rubbed the material in between her fingers, smiling happily.
“You know I can’t work in this.” She said, turning to face Vance. He finished the last of his stew, then stood and brushed his pants off.
“It’s for special occasions.” Vance said happily, crossing his big arms in front of himself and smiling warmly at her. She cocked her eyebrow at him, but she slowly nodded with a happy sigh as she felt the material again. She carefully placed the dress back in the case, careful not to wrinkle it, and picked up the other box. She held it in her hands for a moment, then opened it. Her eyes went wide in an instant, her lips pursed as she stared at the content.
Ruth had certainly spared no expense. Inside the box was a thin chain of silver, with a sapphire gemstone on the necklace. His mother held it in her hands gingerly for a moment, smiling warmly. She walked over to Vance, holding the necklace out to him.
“Could you help me put this on, Vancy?” She asked, looking up at him warmly. He nodded and took the necklace in his thick, heavy hands. She turned around and moved her hair out of the way and Vance put the necklace around her neck, closing the clasp after a long moment of struggling. She admired the gemstone on her neck for a moment, then turned around and gave him another tight embrace. Vance let out a chuckle, patting his mother on the back.
“The necklace is from Miss Ruth.” He told her once she broke off the embrace. She smiled at him and nodded her head, reaching up and patting his cheek.
“I’ll be sure to pay her a visit later, to thank her.” She said, smiling up at her son. He smiled back, happy to have made her birthday something to talk about.
“Go change out of those clothes, Vancy. You’re starting to make the house smell like sweat.” She said as she turned away from him, putting an end to his good mood. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment, looking down at his sweat stained and hole covered shirt. He didn’t say anything to his mother as he left the main room and entered his own room.
He didn’t have much in his room, as he was rarely in it. He began to strip off his clothes, throwing them onto the old chair he had by his bed. He stretched his back and shivered slightly at the chill on his naked skin. He looked over his shoulder, seeing his many scars on his back in the cracked mirror. He didn’t know what had caused them, but they were a sensitive topic for both him and his mother. He only knew that he had gotten them when he was a baby from an illness. He hated the way it looked, like thousands of tiny stabs into his skin mixed in with slight burns. When he was younger, he had them on his chest, sides, and arms as well, but they had faded, thankfully. He sighed and turned away from the sight in his mirror, feeling the usual revulsion. He walked over to the chest of clothes at the foot of his bed and opened it, looking through the few options he had.
After a moment, he decided on a black tunic and a pair of gray trousers. He pulled them on and ignored the scars in his mirror, wishing he could simply forget about them. After getting dressed, he approached the mirror. He took a moment to run a comb through his thick, short brown hair, combing it straight back in his usual style. He was always surprised when he looked in the mirror. His appearance looked nothing like he thought he did.
He had a wide, strong jaw with a pronounced, rounded chin. His gray eyes were just below a pair of thick, dark eyebrows. The way his brows were shaped gave him a naturally stern look, like a guardsman who takes his work very seriously. His neck and shoulders were thick with muscle, matching the toned, strong muscle on the rest of his body. His mother had always said he had taken after his father and he wondered just how strongly he had. His thoughts were ripped from his mind as he heard the front door open fast and a commotion started in the main room. He quickly rushed over to the room, worry in his chest as images of bandit raiders and packs of hungry wolves flashed through his mind.
He saw a thin man with ginger hair standing in the middle of the room, panting hard as if he had run a mile to get there. He knew instantly it was Edwin and he rushed over to his friend. He grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and made him make eye contact with him, staring hard into his friend’s face with a grim stare.
“Edwin, what’s wrong?” He asked, more edge in his voice than he had meant. Edwin looked back up at him with his emerald green eyes, terror shining in their depths.
“There’s a bear in the fields!” He said, his usually pale skin going even whiter. Vance felt his stomach lurch as he thought of a rampaging bear tearing apart the farmers in their own fields.
“Whose field?” He half asked, half growled, his eyes flashing.
“Farmer Harry’s. It’s a big one, bigger than we usually get.” Edwin told him, his fear plain in his face. Vance nodded curtly and made his way out the door. He ran over to the shed of tools, throwing the door open and hurrying inside. He snatched his father’s axe off the wall, then rushed back out of the shed, running toward Farmer Harry’s field. He ran as far and as fast as he could, holding his axe out away from him, avoiding the razor edge with a practiced movement.
After a few moments, the beast came into view. Edwin hadn’t been lying when he said the creature was big, but he hadn’t said it was massive. It was easily twice his height on its hind legs and he was the tallest man in the village. It was covered in thick, black, mangy fur that was slick with blood. It had its claws buried in the innards of Farmer Harry’s largest bull, with a few half eaten sheep littering the ground around it. Vance gripped the axe harder in his hands, gritting his teeth. He sprinted forward, the bear taking notice of him. It let out a deep, booming roar as he got closer, finally close enough to fight. He rushed forward, swinging the axe with all of his might at the beast. It bit deep into the right foreleg of the beast, causing it to bellow in rage and take a swipe at him. The beast’s claws raked across Vances upper arm, tearing through his shirt and instantly drawing blood. The bear backed away at the moment it had made contact with his arm, pulling the axe from his hands, still buried in its leg. He rushed forward with a snarl, not letting it get away. He made a grab for the axe, but the bear jerked away from him, attempting to sink its teeth into him. He leapt back as the beast stretched forward, then wrapped his arms around the thick neck of the beast. He squeezed the beast’s neck with all his strength, ignoring its attempts to break free of his grip. He grunted with the effort of keeping hold of the beast, but he held it, twisting around it so he was straddling its neck. He pulled upward as the beast’s head was in between his legs, the hot breath of the bear on his face. He continued to pull upward, fighting against the strength of the beast, which threatened to throw him on his back. He buried his heels into the ground and grit his teeth, pulling once more, with all his strength. He heard a sickening crack, then the beast slowly went limp under his grip, the panting breath on his face slowing into nothing at all. He let the bear fall from his grip, panting and ignoring the white sparkles in his eyes. He reached down and pulled the axe from the beast’s leg, the red blood of the beast spilling out around his boots. He stumbled forward a few steps, then sat down on the grass, looking at the dead beast as he took in deep gulps of air. He felt his heart break at the sight, his mouth twisting into a deep frown.
On closer inspection, he could clearly tell that the bear was sick. Its fur was matted and missing in places, mange covering the fur it still had. Despite its strength, it had been malnourished and he could see the bones under the skin and fur. He knew that the thing had to have been desperate, bears usually didn’t attack livestock unless they were. This one looked like it hadn’t eaten in weeks, driven mad with hunger. With the winter approaching fast the bear would need to hibernate, but it was far too thin to survive. He looked around at the dead beasts littering the field around him, his heart breaking once again. He had come a little too late to save the bull.
“Vance! Are you alright?!” He heard from behind him. Vance stood up with more effort than he would admit and turned to face the approaching mob of farmers. The village, despite being so close to beastkin territory, had no guards, so the farmers and men of the village kept it safe. Though, they were slow moving at best and not trained in the least.
“I’m fine.” Vance said with an air of confidence, grinning as he rested his fathers axe on his shoulder. The approaching mob slowed slightly at the sight of the dead beasts, but continued all the same.
“Fine. He’s fine, he says. Look at your arm, you ox!” Edwin shouted with a worried frown as he approached, careful not to trip and spit himself on the pitchfork in his hands. Vance turned to look at the bleeding wound, twisting his arm around to get a good look. All things considered, it looked a lot worse than it was. It bled an awful lot, but Vance had always bled a lot whenever he was cut. The wound wasn’t deep, it might not even leave a scar on him. He had had a lot worse done to him, so this didn’t seem like anything to worry about at all, at least to him.
“It’s a light one. No big ordeal.” Vance said back to his ginger friend, treating him to his best reassuring smile. Edwin still didn’t look convinced though.
“Still, best to have someone take a look at it.” Edwin said, worried frown still on his face. Vance rolled his eyes, wondering if his friend would ever stop worrying about him. Vance was the tallest, strongest man in the village, not to mention the best fighter. If they had to worry about him, they should just run from whatever is giving him trouble.
“Gods, it's even bigger up close.” Edwin said, a visible shudder running through his body. The rest of the mob finally got to them, with pitchforks and axes ready to slay the already dead beast. They all gawked at the bear in front of them, looking between the beast and Vance. 10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8KkOFvG9MY
They all approached the beast after a moment, poking and prodding at it. Edwin stood by Vance’s side, still glaring at the wound on his arm. Vance stared at the beast he had slain, his eyes full of silent pity. A powerful, proud creature like a bear did not deserve to meet an end like this. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a small, old man approaching him. The short, hump backed old man in dirty work clothes reached up and pulled the wide brimmed hat off his bald head, looking up at him with grateful brown eyes.
“Thank you, Vance,” Harry said in a raspy, ancient voice, “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come. How many more of the livestock would it have taken without you stopping it, I dare not think.” He reached one of his wrinkled, calloused hands out and patted Vance on his own hands.
“You truly are your father’s son.” The old man said, beaming up at him with a smile missing more than a few teeth. But, Vance smiled back all the same.
“Think nothing of it. Just the neighborly thing to do.” Vance told the weathered old man. Harry let out a soft laugh at that, shaking his head from side to side.
“Vancy!” He heard boom out from behind him, causing the big man to jump and spin around. His mother was fast approaching him with Ruth close behind her, neither one of them wearing a very pleased expression. Vance felt his stomach sink as he laid eyes on them. Even with all his strength and wielding his father’s axe, he was still afraid of his mother and Ruth.
“Would you stop running out into danger like that?! I swear, you are just like your father! Look, you’ve even gotten yourself hurt!” His mother yelled at him, grabbing his arm and pointing to the wound. She gave him an angry, worried look as she stared up into his eyes.
“Do you want to give your mother a heart attack?! On her birthday no less?!” Ruth shouted at him, poking her finger into his chest. He smiled sheepishly back at the two women, trying to figure out a way to pacify them.
“Give the Lad a break, Ailana. He saved Harry’s flock!” The deep, gruff voice of Maynard, a shepherd, rang out. His mother glared at the older man, but said nothing, instead choosing to inspect the wound on Vance’s arm. Ruth let out an annoyed huff, but looked toward the massive bear in the field. After laying her eyes on it, her face contorted into a bewildered expression.
“You beat that?” Ruth asked as she gestured towards the bear, her surprised eyes boring into him. Vance looked over his shoulder at the beast, feeling another tinge of pity.
“Yes. I hope it didn’t have any cubs.” Vance answered, his face sullen. His mother and Ruth both looked up at him, surprised. Edwin grinned, showing off the space between his two front teeth and rolled his eyes at his friend. His mother chose not to comment and started to drag him away from the scene, muttering to herself. Edwin waved a goodbye, then turned to help the other villagers move the bodies of the heavy animals.
She dragged him all the way to their home, not letting go of his arm. She didn’t even stop to let him place the axe back in its spot, she just dragged him until they were inside their home. She gestured for him to sit down in one of the two chairs, still glaring at him, then left to get the medicine box. Vance placed the axe down beside the chair with the shaft up in the air, then sat down. He stretched his neck from side to side, hearing it pop and click as he did.
After a moment, his mother returned with the box. She walked to his side and opened it, pulling out a clean rag, some bandages, and a few herbs. First, she wet the herbs in some water, then poked them into his wound. They stung as they entered the wound, but they would stave off any infection he could catch. After that, she wet the rag and began wiping the dried blood from his arm, her face wearing a worried expression. After cleaning the wound, she wrapped the bandages around it, binding them tightly. Vance thought that the bandages were unnecessary, but he wouldn’t be voicing his opinion anytime soon. After another moment, his mother finished.
“There,” She said, her warm brown eyes looking back up at him, “all better. Don’t go and do anything to hurt yourself, I won’t bandage you again!” His mother threatened, waving her finger at him. He smiled back at her, then pulled her into an embrace. After a moment, she returned his embrace, letting out an annoyed sigh as she patted his back.
“Thanks, mother. I promise I’ll try.” He told her, tightening his embrace slightly.
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