Faintest blinks of stars in distance said farewell to the night and greeted the hot summer sun. Evaporation from ground climbed to sky, heated with first rays of sun. Everything was silent and in calm, roosters sounded in distance, a heralds of a day. One light was in the shed, blinking trough dark tainted glass, a man opens doors and takes a single step out, stretching up and yawning wide only in his ragtag leggings. Man had his hair down, still not tied in humble pony tail, and ruddy copper-brown cheeks needed a shave most likely. He pats his belly in pure joy, just above a old scar from scimitar that nearly cost him his life. Man was handsome in rugged way, and it is obvious he was a quite a lady candy in his youth with merry eyes and wide smile.
Man trots to the stone well, takes bucked and slowly with rope he lets it sink in depths, fill with fresh cold water. He pulls it out with little bother, and places it on the stone wall around the well. He washes his face and chest and dips all his head in the bucket, rubbing his hair with fingers. He squeezes water of it and touches his sideburns, overgrown and rest of hair appearing out of his usual design, just as his father knew to wear his 'stash he wears also for many years.
A small chunk of broken mirror hanged on the well beam that supported a small little roof made of ash wood slates covered with thick layer of moss. Rhyson turned it toward him and his soft brown eye looked back mirroring. He winks to himself in coy manner, before taking out shaving tools from his pocket. A simple blade, thin and sharp, chunk of small sharpening stone, small lump of soap and simple scissors rusted from use, lined on the leather. He rubs some soap in his hands and then around his sideburns and stash, softening the four day beard enough so his razor blade glide over his skin. He washes razor after every move, careful not to cut himself. He washes his face as done and feels up the soft skin with content. While watching in mirror he starts cutting overgrown mustaches, trimming it down, if he sees a grey one, he tries to pull it out, frowning.
Sun already raised over weather hills in distance and spilled its gold over Old forest when he finished and spilled out the dirty water in the pit behind small wooden toilet with hollowed heart on its doors. Just as he wanted to grab wooden handle on the doors he hear footsteps of few, and rolling sound of cart. Few men appeared, with a load of stone in carts that was pulled with two bull's.
- "Mornin' boss." youngest of them shouted and waved with his hat. Men gathered around him, still in his undergarment leggings sharing few words.
Rhyson went to speak with artisan stonemason, that he hired to do the expansion of the family home, while carpentry will be done by him and his few friends to save some coin.
- "Here we can expand, but here you cant have more then two rooms as land is filled with roots and it would only harm the build." - Artisian said as pointing on the parchment with final plan for the Lodge.
- "Make as you think its wisest, but be sure lad I am not a fool." - Rhyson said in jesting tone, but his look was serious enough that Artisian nods few times and shuffled away to the worksite.
Rhyson watched the old home of his family, roofless, as they will raise it for one floor up to make room for bedrooms, and at right side of his home was cleared land for the foundations.
- "I will be lucky if we finish this before winter." - Rhyson muttered.- "I need more workers, and i need more coin, and..i have none of that as now." - he sighed and went back to the shed that was their home for now. Uniss was sleeping still, curled up. He comes closer and pulls the covers up to her neck, tucking her in. His hand gently stroked hair off her face and just admired how this child can sleep so peaceful.
