The morning sun sliced through the trees in sharp beams as the four of them worked the clearing, sweat and silence hanging between them.
The scent of fresh-cut wood clung to the air, thick and grounding.
Billy adjusted his grip on the beam, sweat beading along his temple. He glanced at Artur, who was already lifting the other end.
"Ready?"
Artur gave a small nod. "Lift."
Together, they moved in sync, each step steady despite the weight. Across the clearing, Jay wrestled with a half-sized log, muttering curses under his breath as it slipped from his shoulder.
Mark, not far behind, smirked. "Need help, or are you trying to impress the squirrels?"
Jay straightened. "At least I'm doing something."
"You call that doing something?" Mark asked, tossing a smaller plank with a practiced motion. "You look like you're in a wrestling match with a tree limb."
