The wind whistled against the sturdy small house, wailing as a banshee. The winter had pasted, the spring was as cold as death, killing the weak buds that had tried to rebirth with the warmth of the previous week had brung. A lone woman held an axe over head, bringing it down swift on a log with a force suprising to her slender build. It split the log clean in half with a crack of thunder. She gathered some of the firewood, and moved towards the door. Inside, the fire roared, and a small boy playing with a wooden sword. The woman put down the firewood, and turned towards the boy.
"Jason, go clean up, then set the table." The child smiled and did what he was told.
