He had finally pulled all of the wreckage out of their food stores. He had thrown sand on the ground to soak up the remaining water, and brushed it clear again. Another heaping of sand helped to shore it up, and he padded this layer down. The shelving that had previously been in there was mostly in ruins, but he knew just the wolf to help him make some more.

He raised his head and howled to Charlie, summoning the wolf who wished to be the pack’s Master of Arms. this would be an interesting test of the wolfs skill, but mostly he called for his son because he wished to have both his help and his company.


"Speech"

Charlie had been doing a bit of everything that he could. He’d tried to find some herbs for Andy, and had been helping with clearing away debris and cleaning up their living areas where the waters had receded. He worried for others who had gotten injured too, and his heart hurt for those they lost to the waters that night. So much destruction in the blink of an eye. His companions had thankfully been away when the flood occurred, harm not coming to either of them, but it didn’t make what had happened any easier to bear. Charlie was tired, especially since he had been running out of the Armada to find what supplies he could find. He knew his father would be working hard too, and so when Charlie heard the Warlord call for him he shifted his path from a patrol in the woods back to the Col.

The yearling would find his father at their food stores, with materials set to the side to build and the flooring sanded and patted down. He would greet his father with a gentle smile and a wag of his tail, coming up beside the warlord without complaint. “It is looking better already. Slowly coming back to what it once was.” A bit of encouragement, something they both needed to hear. “We gonna work on some new shelves I’m assuming?” He asked, keeping the tone light.

"Speech," 'Thought.'

It wasn’t long before his son arrived, and Sirius smiled at the tan boy. He was equal in height to Sirius now, and when had that happened? It wouldn’t be long before he reached maturity, but he brushed aside that thought. He wasn’t sure he was ready just yet to face it. “I’m hoping to make some improvement on the previous design” He explained, he had some ideas to make better use of the space. He had considered ways to waterproof things, but in the end realised that there was nothing that would protect things if another flood like that came through. It was either a freak accident, or the pack would have to move. There was no middle ground.

“We are, we need to size them, cut them, and fit them.” He explained, raising a paw to the supplies he had brought over for this. “You ready to help your old man with this?”


"Speech"

As his father explained his intention, Charlie let his gaze turn to the materials and began to assess them. After the flood they would need to rethink a way to make the stores sturdier, though nothing would withstand another flood if it occurred. He prayed that it never would… After finding out the forge had trapped Ruga and Keahi, leading them both to their deaths, he had been shaken. The idea that his packmates could be stolen like that had been something Charlie never fathomed. And dealing with the aftermath… he just hoped no one else died from chills or injuries brought on from being caught in the rushing water. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” His blue gaze lifted to the Warlord and Charlie offered him a smile. “Of course. I’m not going to turn away from a little work. Especially if it gives me a chance to work alongside you.” He moved forward and moved one of the wooden pieces aside. “Do you have a size in mind already, or better yet a piece to act as reference? If we mark the others where we need to cut them in advance it might help make the process smoother.” Charlie suggested, testing the sturdiness of the wood with a paw. "Speech," 'Thought.'

“Excellent” The Warlord said, pleased with how eager Charlie was to work alongside him. Working with his kids was one of the few things he truly enjoyed in life. He hoped to bond with them and teach them as they grew. Sure, Charlie had done most of his growing at this point, but that didn’t mean he would ever stop being the Warlords kid.

“Yes, we still need to size them. Come on, I’ll show you the set up we have so far” he explained, moving into the stores so Charlie could see the space set aside for the shelves. He had already built in the space for the shelves, and he took off the sample piece he had worked with to ensure everything would fit. ”Well use this to make measurements for everything else. Did you want to cut or sand?” He asked his son. He’d already set aside some sandpaper. He’d dipped a piece of deer hide in sap, and then spread sand across it.


"Speech"

The wood they were to use still needed to be sized, but his father had a set up planned already. This came as no surprise to Charlie - his father had lived and led for so long now that such things surely came natural to him. The younger man followed after his father, gaze sweeping across the space set aside for the shelves. His father had a sample piece of wood that he had as well, stating that they would use that to make measurements for everything else. A nod was given. Good, that would ensure that everything fit perfectly.

“I’ll sand.” Between the two of them the process should go smoothly enough. As he moved to stand beside the hide meant to act as sandpaper, his blue gaze flicked back to the Warlord. “How has everyone been recovering from the flood? No one has gotten worse, have they?” He asked, knowing some injuries and sickness were sustained… among the loss of two of their own.

"Speech," 'Thought.'

The Warlord nodded his acceptance at his son’s choice, and let Charlie take over the sanding spot. Meanwhile, he checked the measurements against the sample piece of wood he had dragged over to ensure everything matched up correctly. Making some marks in the wood with his teeth, and checking twice, he was satisfied he had the right length.

Cutting was a tricky aspect, but he had bears help to drag a jagged edge across the wood. Back and forth, back and forth. “Some of the younger wolves are still recovering, I’m worried about Stratum” He admitted. At least Andy had gotten over her pneumonia.


"Speech"