Winter Silversmith Finds a Home

Winter Silversmith crossed the bridge and stepped cautiously over the rocky shore.

“Darned spriggan” Winter said, "snatching my boots in the night, forcing me to walk barefoot today."

Winter continued over the rocky outcropping towards a mysterious dark mist he had observed from the bridge.

“Must be careful not to aaaaaiiigh!” A loud splash could be heard as Winter toppled off the broken riverbank and into the water near the falls.

“Pfft cursed spriggan!” he growled as his arms flapped wildly to bring himself upright in the river.

“Well, since I am here I might as well continue” Winter said as he paddled like a dog and made his way across the river to the opposite shore.

Climbing over the moss and sand Winter crawled up the side of the bank beneath a tall Maritime Pine with thick branches of green leaves that extended out over the river. Up the earthen bank Winter finally rose to his feet, just for a moment, before collapsing on the grass under the added weight of his river drowned tunic.

Laying on his back in the tall grass, Winter stopped to catch his breath and feel the sunlight trickling down on his face through the rustling leaves above.

“Mmmm blessed sun” he breathed in deeply the warmth of the sun and the woodsy smell of grass and moss and mud.

A cloud moved in front of the sun for a moment and Winter opened his eyes to the cool darkness that suddenly surrounded him. Squinting he could see something wooden and Man made in the branches of the pine.

Removing some of the extra layers of drenched clothing and somewhat lighter now Winter rose to his feet once again and could clearly make out a solid wood panel wall above.

Winter Silversmith

Winter climbed up on a nearby rock balancing himself as he eyed a nearby thick branch nearby.

“Too… old… for… this!” Winter exclaimed as he leaped skyward toward the branch with arms outstretched before him. <THWACK!> Winter crashed into the trunk and fell down between the rock and the tree. “Owww” Winter cried rubbing his leg and ankle. Winter looked around to see if anyone had seen his pathetic attempt at flying, the woods were silent save a few birds chirping in the trees across the river.

“There must be a way to get up there” Winter asked to the tree and rock before him. It was then that he noticed the small spikes that had been hammered into the trunk. Smacking his hand upon his forehead Winter shook his head and laughed, “Well, I could just take the ladder” he said.

Winter's New Home

After much swinging and grunting and praying he would not fall Winter made his way up the tree to the wooden wall. Just when he was about to tumble downward his hand caught hold of the edge of the wood and he pulled himself upward his all of his might. Hand, shoulder, leg, two legs and with one last deep breath he rolled into the room.

“I am too old for this” Winter panted, as he rubbed his bruised leg and ankle, staring up at what appeared to be a ceiling.

Surveying the room he found it empty except for a long coil of knotted rope piled in the corner near the door with one end tied to a ring in the floor. “I could have used you down there!” Winter said to the rope, half expecting the rope to reply with giggling at his recent performance.

“This shall be my home” Winter declared, “I will raise sheep on the grassland ridge below and spend my days watching the river and the world pass me by. Yes, this shall be my home indeed”.