"The damage is infectious, and all that can be done is purge it all and start from scratch."
If life is a series of choices, then perhaps that just means that life is a game? To Akazawa Saki, that's all life really is. She refutes the existence of G...
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Rumors of the disease in the forests had spread. Whether by sight or the hearsay of others, villagers from neighboring towns and villages were arriving to Wistal in droves, and the topic itself was in the forefront of the gossip circles. It was a tedious mess Saki wanted nothing to do with, but it plagued her thoughts with every overheard reminder.
But she had other matters to concern herself with right now.
Around the trunk of a large, dead tree within the thicket of trees overlooking the lake from the hilltop, Saki had managed to pave a large circle of level flooring in the smaller pebbles of cobblestone unsuitable for walls, reaching a diameter of twenty meters, with a large circular floor attached to the outside to form a smithy, much like in her previous house. This time the smithy was built within the house simply for heating purposes. At the present moment, in spite of the cold droplets of misting rain coming down from the skies to soak Saki's form, she was working on the inlay for her improved forge.
Laying the stone down for the walls of the fire pit, filling the gaps in between with clay, before lining the inside with another layer of stone. Back and forth she worked, setting the foundations down with little rest; Winter was soon upon the country, after all.
She was going for a quick but sturdy job, building small to beat the soon-approaching snow, utilizing the abundance of clay nearby the fill in the gaps of the cobblestone and seal the interior away from the weather. Later, when she had more time and a more suitable haul of supplies, she intended to build an adjoining spire, scarcely tall enough to reach the tops of the surrounding trees. Saki always preferred high places that could provide vantage points and the rare escape from something unpleasant upon her doorstep. That, and she always preferred the comfort of being up high, away from the ground.
Saki was running out of rope, though, a necessity she couldn't do without considering that she needed something to tether the roofing down. If she had started this tedious task at least a week earlier, she may have had the time to bind her own rope from the land,, but she couldn't afford to spend the time doing that, now.
The woman could only let out a breath as she dropped the large chunk of cobblestone she was about to place into her forge, scoffing as she heard the telltale crack of the stone splitting from impact with the stone floor.
It wasn't long past midday, she'd better get that rope while she had the chance. The traders were never open for business too late into the afternoon, after all.
So Saki left after ensuring the roof of pelts wouldn't slip from atop the barrels that still formed a makeshift tent, if only so the onyx-furred feline nestled within wouldn't have to deal with the rain if it didn't want to.
The journey back to Wistal took longer than it used to, a minor inconvenience at that moment with time being a quickly-dwindling commodity, but perhaps later she would enjoy the removal from humans all the more. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, practically scowling at the loose threads that insisted on coming apart form the rest of the woven material; While she hadn't worn this scarf for nearly as long as her other that had been ruined he last job she did for Garrak, she found herself wondering if she should just obtain another. It was essentially winter after all.
