Woodman Casting Anisiya Page

“Hold this,” he said, not looking at her.

Pavel snorted. “Wood doesn’t scream.” Woodman Casting Anisiya

Today, Pavel was casting a new axe handle. It was a ritual he performed each spring, squatting in the clearing behind their cabin, a fire hissing at his feet. He had selected a billet of white ash—straight-grained, resilient. The wood lay across his knees like a patient animal. “Hold this,” he said, not looking at her

Pavel had rolled over. “You dream too much.” ” he said