After half of day of drinking, eating, drinking more and sleeping, the red-haired half-blood decided to leave the 'home' of a cellar.
Langhund creaked the two hinged doors open, eyes shutting as the bright light of outdoors struck his eyes and went straight to his thumping headache. He mustered courage and stepped out with a long breath, feeling the mead still filling his stomach jump about with each uneasy step. Eventually however, the fresh air and the cold weather started to sober him up.
It had been a few days now since Hund was pardoned by the Reeve Garwig for helping in the battle in the Balewood, and slaying the leader of an orkish raid party with his bow and arrow.
In just a simple shirt he was soon feeling the cold reminder of Forlaw as the bitter wind chewed at his neck and wrists and soon he was feeling the cold reminder of Forlaw's residents as a man, taller than most with a greying beard down to his gut stopped in his way out of no where, sending the red-haired man to slip on ice and fall down on his arse in the snow.
"Oi, Half-Breed. Heard your folk like their sheep, in more ways than one, now get up and follow me.", the elderly Eorling grunted out and turned to head towards a stables, tailed by a grumbling Hund.
Distressed and muffled bleats were coming from the closed stable doors and before Langhund could even get a proper look he was shoved in by a wrinkled hand and the hatch was closed after him.
"Sort it out, Half-blood, and if you do, I'll let you live here without a bruised eye." The large man hissed out, crossing his arms and leaning upon the stable hatch.
The sheep that was heard was now seen, pacing around with pained sounds coming from her every now and then, and poking out from underneath her stubby tail was two tiny gooey hooves. The poor ewe was struggling to deliver her lamb, perhaps she was too young? Or perhaps her babe was twisted inside of her and stuck? It was a good thing that Langhund has had experience on farms here and there as part of his 'criminal punishment'.
"When I'm done here, you might regret your comment about half-bloods.", the half-blood grinned as he rolled up his sleeves and lowered himself down behind the sheep. He gently gripped onto the legs, and gave a gentle pull but to no avail.
With a sigh, gritted teeth and one closed eye his hand moved further up and up the lamb, grimacing at the horrific feeling as he reached the lamb's head, which was indeed the wrong way it was meant to be facing. He held onto it gently and pulled some more, gently and slowly and eventually the lamb started to come. After a careful couple of minutes, the hind legs fully came out and it fell down into the straw.
Using his fingers, Hund removed the slimy coating from around it's mouth and even leaned down to breath into it's mouth and nose ever so gently to give it's first breath to which it gave out a feeble cry. The ewe turned, motherly instincts kicking in and started to tend to her newborn.
With a smile, Langhund raised to his feet and stepped over towards the large Eorling who was waiting for him with a relieved look on his face.
"Thank you, Half-blood, suppose your not a-..."
"BLEURGH!"
The mead and food from last night's feast made a reappearance! Straight into the man's beard as the half-blood threw up from a mixture of being hungover and the taste of afterbirth.. never a good combination.
With a bruised cheek, Langhund came back towards the cellar, still wiping the goo off his arm with a grimace..
