A chill wind blew down from the north making the spring air far colder than usual. A storm had swept through days before, dumping rain and bringing intense winds. The winds blew down branches and trees in the Orchard and caused the river to flood. He'd gathered what he could from the Orchard and soon moved toward the river in search of drift wood along the beaches. Dagrún followed along with her mountain lion while their birds scouted in the sky above. He only needed a few more pieces to complete his raft as well as to have enough to burn for a bonfire. In addition he'd put together a good cache of liquor for the occasion.

Dagrún trotted along after Úlfr. She'd been recruited to help with funeral preparations and while she knew it was, in some ways, a somber occasion, she also knew that there would be drink and a large fire. Something of a party and last farewell. Her ears flicked forward as she heard Sperla call out. The little falcon had found a sizeable trunk of drift wood they could haul back to Fireside. There were a number of downed branches in the Orchard as well that they'd already gathered. While it might make sense to stick close to gather wood this was also something of a training exercise. It would be good for her to build up strength.

Úlfr looked to the sky at Dagrún's falcon's cry. He saw the little bird swoop down lower, swiftly joined by his ravens as the trio guided the wolves and the lion to the site of a sizable fallen tree. It's wood had been bleached white from the sun and its time in the river. There were chunks of bark here and there still clinging but most of it bore a ghostly hue. "Alright, this looks to be a good one. Let's get it tied on." He shrugged several lengths of rope off his back and looked to the ravens. The clever and dextrous birds could tie knots in a way he could only dream of. They picked a few points on each side of the tree and began to tie.

Dagrún bounded after her kestrel and the ravens to see a pretty, a reasonably sized tree. Ok, this would take all three of them for sure but she was excited. She settled down next to Úlfr to watch as the ravens worked their magic with the rope. She'd heard of funerary practices from her mother. While Úlfr had informed her this one would not be as wild and lavish as it would be for a chieftain she was still eager to see the spectacle. Especially the fire. Soon the ravens were done and they settled on top of the thin log for the ride. Dagrún trotted over to the loop that was meant for her, slipping through it so the main band of rope was across her chest. Her mountain lion moved to the middle leaving the last loop for Úlfr.

Úlfr tried to quiet his thoughts and not get overwhelmed by everything he had to do. While it was true he was almost done with his preparations the actual celebration and farewell filled him with a tumult of emotions. He felt he was still holding onto something and this act would be a final act of letting go. He watched quietly as the ravens finished tying the ropes. Dagrún and her mountain lion took their places and Úlfr followed suit, slipping into the rough rope harness. "Ok, let me get this shifted and then we can start pulling." He tensed and pulled, his paws digging into the sand as he righted the log into an easier position to pull.

Dagrún was chomping at the bit to get started. She waited patiently as Úlfr got into position and shifted the orientation of the log. Once he was ready he gave the signal and she began to pull. Her hind legs kicked forward, muscles tensing and she let loose a whoop of joy as the log began to move. She'd be sore after all this, that was for sure but in the mean time she was enjoying the workout. She glanced over at her mountain lion companion who clearly thought this was stupid but she paid the cat no mind. The wind was starting to pick up, bringing warmer air from the south as the sun slipped behind the clouds.