The sleigh he pulled made little noise as it slid across the hard frozen ground. He had been out since the days ending doing his habitual rounds for the season, dropping off whatever he had that could be of use to those who had need of it.
Stopping a moment to allow his legs a rest he took deep lungfuls of air and watched his breath cloud in the cold as he exhaled slowly, dark eyes following the puffs until they dissipated in the night.
A last stop then home to a welcoming hearth and a stiff drink to warm the body off its chill.
Taking his time to place careful feet upon the icy ground he stepped over to the sleigh and began to unpack the logs he had brought. Shifting them a few pieces as at time he neatly stacked them up by the door, within easy reach so a person need not step out to the chill to retrieve them.
He knew the occupant of this house very well and their habit of working the metals throughout the cold season. Almost the only time they were not hammering and crafting was when their other skills were needed elsewhere.
Reaching into the bottom of the sleigh he brought out a small sack and with it in hand stepped through into the house.
The home was well laid out with the forge set in the centre to radiate its heat through out the space. Along the wall right by the door was a crafts table strewn with small pots, cups, pestle and mortars. Bushels of herbs hung drying above it.
A quick glance to the empty hook by the door told him the occupant was out. The bulging satchel which normally hung there being missing could mean only one thing. A proud smile stretched his face even as the fires warmth began to banish the chill from his skin.
Stepping carefully so as not to disturb anything with his big shape he moved over towards the back section only to come to a stop as he approached the smithing bench and anvil.
Tools of the metalworkers trade festooned the counter top in a haphazard scattering. A quick glance told him that there were at least three projects on the go from the selection and variety available. It seems that all of them were receiving regular progress, but the tools themselves were not getting time for care and maintenance.
Popping the little bundle on the counter he stepped around and began to pick up each tool in turn, checking for wear, damage, scrapes and scuffs. What needed tightening he tightened, what needed oiling he oiled, and what needed sharpening, he sharpened.
It didn’t take him too long as his hands moved with practiced ease from one to the next, seeing to its care and returning it to its place upon the tools rack mounted on the counter top. He smiled to himself thinking of the other person who, like this, gets focused on the project and often forgets about the care of the tools themselves.
The job done he stepped back around and took a glance towards the back where a bed and side table sat. That table had been his initial goal but given that the bed had not been slept in and the condition of the smith counter it seems that the work was taking a priority.
Leaving the bundle in the centre of the counter top his big think fingers untied the binding a let the cloth fall open. A fresh loaf of bread from his own oven. A block of linen wrapped butter from his most recent churning. A wax sealed pot of this seasons honey for his Lil B.
Stepping outside into the cold he close the door securely behind him and inhaled sharply as the cold once again took the heat of him.
As the Dagda set to and pulled his sleigh off on the way home he chuckled to himself. Always busy buzzing around and working hard so she is. Just like her old man.
