Chapter 4: Danny POV
Dearest Sebastian,
Even for a few hours we had, I have found that as a great comfort. I have been keeping myself safe, and I have been Feeding as needed. The snow has seemed to keep my own needs, pardon the pun, frozen.
A few months we will see how many trees have made it. I already contacted a farmer upstate to buy some saplings as needed. Being back here has been bring back some of the good memories I had growing up here. I have started to build a few pens, and have added a dog to my lonely exile, making it a bit less lonely. I know you would recommend a cat, and I am going to get some once the barn is up. I need a horse to till the back pasture, and I am sure I could just summon some Demonic magic, and have it done, but working with my hands… it makes the pain less. Lesser. It doesn't work as well as yours do.
The cold air and my slightly hotter than Human body made it seem as if there was a fine mist of steam following me as I passed the grove and the graves. I was carrying a wooden beam I had fashioned to fix the fence that ran along the front of the property. The air smelled of more snow on the way and I knew no one would venture out this far from the main road, but I needed to stay busy. I had finished building the chicken coop the night before, and had slept a little. I had chopped another five trees down and had pulled the stumps, working my muscles as I had seen Papa do with the help of other workers and a horse. I chopped the stumps on my own now, and I could pull them up with no assistance. I was strong - so very strong.
I laid the beam down and nailed it to the other beam, creating a solid wall, about waist high. If someone was determined, was looking hard enough, they would find the wall, the new addition, and soon realize the farm land was occupied. I wanted to stay to myself, not only for the Humans safety, but for my own peace of mind. Working left little time for my body to give into other things.
February was a few days from pushing January to the side, and we would be welcoming Spring soon after. I shook a tree as I passed it, the snow falling from the branches, but it did not break. I walked down the small path and stood among the ruins of the original house. My own cottage was closer to the main path, separating my homes, my memories. I looked up at the strong tree tree that stood in the middle of the house. I was reminded of the story I read to the young Master, the Phoenix bird, rising from the ashes, as I circled the tree. A low, long branch jutted out, reaching toward the graves and I pulled myself up to sit in the crux of it.
Apple picking has been introduced to us at a young age and we each had been given a tree to take care of as we grew. I looked around the skeletons the dormant trees had become and located the small clump of trees that had been planted when we were born. Hopping down, I walked over to them, still marked off by the now leaning iron fence with small plaques that Papa had made - Danny and my trees were the biggest, and the girls were big and strong as well.
"At least we are resilient," I said, pressing my hands into the bark. I laid my head on it and found myself replaying the day that I came back and found the home already gone, the embers of the night's fire were all that was left, clinging to the wooden beams. The village elders had been standing with buckets, had slowly left, as I had. They must have placed the stones beside Mama and Papa. I closed my eyes; it had taken almost three months before I could stand by the trees or even think about the graves and not break down. Being back on my land was both a blessing and a curse.
The snow began once more and I moved back to the cottage. My dog, I called him Brit, was waiting for me by the fireplace and was wagging his tail as we sat on the small chair. I petted him and let myself fall asleep.
