We had some chickens and a few goats. Eggs and milk every morning. Those tended to be the sorts of animals we raised in the village. Our yards weren't large enough for anything else, and goats will eat any food scraps. Pigs will too, but no one wants a mud pit for a yard and you only raise them to kill them. We had our animals for what they provided, not primarily their meat.
Well, I probably didn't. I had four siblings, you know. It could have been one of them, or my mother, or they might have arrived from the farm with names instead.
[ He shrugs. The carving he's doing hasn't really changed the shape of the object much just yet. It's a slow process. ]
[ Of course they always used theirs right away so it didn't have time to take a turn and taste bad. He thinks maybe he'll get a few goats when he returns home. The carving knife stops mid-carve as he realizes what he's just thought. Going home has had nothing but a bittersweet feeling attached to it, knowing what he'd be missing here, but for a moment he saw more than just curing himself of his rage. He began to see building his life again. The knife moves again. ]
Goats are a better value. Smaller, easier to feed, unable to trample you.
It's not common, but cows are huge, heavy animals that can take fright and thrash all over the place. One has to be mindful of that while working with one.
[It’s hard for her to imagine herself living that kind of life, having grown up in a major city and more or less constantly moving since she was a child.]
Most people did, yes. It helps to have daily eggs and milk. But our yard wasn't big enough for cows. They need space to graze. Like I said, goats will eat anything.
[ He turns the wood over to start on the backside. ]
I picked it up while I was out on my own avoiding people. [ There's a pause as he tries to decide how much more to say. ] I needed to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied. But back then I only had my hunting knife so the things I made were awful. It's way too large a knife to properly carve out bits and detail things. Now that I have these tools I can make things worth looking at.
[ The touch is a reminder of how much he'll miss this, but he doesn't voice such thoughts aloud. Instead he pauses in his task and gives her a grateful smile. ]
no subject
[Drawing her legs up, she continues to watch him work.]
What kind of animals did you have growing up?
no subject
no subject
That sounds like a really nice way to grow up. Did you ever name them?
no subject
[ He brushes some curls of wood off his pants. ]
Think one pair of goats was Olaf and Oda.
no subject
Who named them that?
no subject
[ But a smile touches his lips. ]
Why? Are they not good names?
no subject
[Daisy's quick to say.]
Just not names I'd picture you coming up with.
no subject
[ He shrugs. The carving he's doing hasn't really changed the shape of the object much just yet. It's a slow process. ]
We always had fresh milk, so that was nice.
no subject
I’ve never had goats milk before.
[She admits, moving to sit with her legs crossed on his bed.]
What’s it taste like?
no subject
[ Of course they always used theirs right away so it didn't have time to take a turn and taste bad. He thinks maybe he'll get a few goats when he returns home. The carving knife stops mid-carve as he realizes what he's just thought. Going home has had nothing but a bittersweet feeling attached to it, knowing what he'd be missing here, but for a moment he saw more than just curing himself of his rage. He began to see building his life again. The knife moves again. ]
Goats are a better value. Smaller, easier to feed, unable to trample you.
no subject
[Then again, it's not like she's really tried a lot of different milks.]
Trample you? Is that something people are concerned about where you're from?
[She grew up in a city, so the thought of cows trampling her is not something she ever thought about.]
no subject
It's not common, but cows are huge, heavy animals that can take fright and thrash all over the place. One has to be mindful of that while working with one.
no subject
So, you grew up on a farm?
[Already she’s smiling at the image of him as a farmer.]
no subject
[ It is not clicking in his head why he wouldn't know about cows, though. ]
no subject
[It’s hard for her to imagine herself living that kind of life, having grown up in a major city and more or less constantly moving since she was a child.]
no subject
no subject
[And maybe a little smelly, but Manhattan also didn’t smell great.]
How did you learn wood carving?
no subject
[ He turns the wood over to start on the backside. ]
I picked it up while I was out on my own avoiding people. [ There's a pause as he tries to decide how much more to say. ] I needed to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied. But back then I only had my hunting knife so the things I made were awful. It's way too large a knife to properly carve out bits and detail things. Now that I have these tools I can make things worth looking at.
no subject
She knows nothing she can say will make him feel better about an awful time in his life, but at least he won’t have to go through that again.]
no subject
All is well now.
no subject
Good.
[She's leaning further, almost halfway off the bed, to kiss him on his forehead.]
no subject
Don't fall.
[ She is leaning quite a bit. ]
no subject
Thanks.
[Scooting back on the bed, Daisy looks at the wood carving.]
What did you say you were making?
no subject
[ He turns the wood over in his hands. Hm, bit lopsided at the moment. ]
I'm making you something too, but it's a surprise.
no subject
[She smiles up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. Her smile widens when he mentions something being in the works for her too.]
Really?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)