Builders need boulders. (Open enough.)

Large, pointed spade over his shoulder, Durran walked the edge of the Tutela Mountains and the forest, searching. His goal today was to find a good boulder flow. Where the trees had taken root and split some massive stone or two apart. While he could certainly work to try and split the stone down further, his true aim was to dig for it. It had been a long couple of weeks to even get him to this point as he dug the foundation for his new place of living along with needing to create the tool for the job. The delay truly had been from the power of winter and Jack Frost who made the ground hard. He could almost hear his Grandmother’s admonishing him for trying to build a house in the dead of winter. And, true, it was never timely to try and dig in winter. But Durran didn’t mind. He expected the project to take quite some time before he would be ready to live in it and the gear he had brought with continue to suffice him. So long as he was allowed to leave the walls for hunting trips, Durran did not fear for lack of food. Suffice to say, that the young man was happy to take his time and enjoy his work and, undoubtedly, the finished project.

"A walk in the forest always helps me relax, you know? Lets me take a break from everything."

He couldn't recall who'd said that to him, or when - probably a patron with too much time on his hands and a condescending stare. But when he woke up in the darkness of his bar with a stinging headache and a mound of hands crafted out of darkness in his sleep, he had nowhere else to go. Where did the hands come from? Well, his gift had made them, that he knew. But why? Ross had no time to unpack all of it - the forest it is. Trees and silence didn't make him feel less uneasy, but at least the air wasn't as stuffy as what he was accustomed to. He just wanted to get far away from everything, and his legs obliged, taking him farther than he had ever gotten in the woods.

The exact appeal of it all was still unclear to him, but he liked walking. The man needed to walk, listen to the faint sound of his footfalls on the frozen ground. He reached the edge of the mountains and began a steady treck alongside them. His clothes were not made for outings such as this one, surely, and still too flimsy for the cold weather, but who cared? He certainly didn't. Perhaps what he did care about was when he stopped to sit and rest, light himself a cigarette and let his head stop spinning for a second, and what he could only describe as a giant of a man caught up to him, carrying a spade of all things. Ross was not somebody else put off, but he froze, studying the stranger.

Odd fellow - surprise he hadn't caught him around by his bar. Seemed like the kind, whether the man was a good judge of character or not remaining to be seen. He regarded the stranger with a rigid, reserved wave. Could've been the fresh air getting to his head, making him social, or at least as social as he got.

Durran had been searching only a little while before he met the fellow. He seemed an alright sort. Already, it was evident that he was the sort to keep to himself. Reserved in his wave towards the man in fur skins. Not that the young man minded. People often seemed put off by him for his large stature and an almost beast-like appearance. He didn’t mind. It made for an introductory conversation topic when they asked. He would dress as he pleased so long as he dressed appropriately. It many, it would the man in the fur coat felt that his clothing was appropriate for most any affair. However, Durran knew better. But for now, Durran waved jovially in return and, without any reason not too as his search could wait, meandered towards the man, saying, “hello! How does the day find you?”

And a friendly one at that. Ross huffed and weighed his options, between remaining firmly on the ground and getting up to... do whatever people did in these situations? Be polite, perhaps. After all of these years, he was still so poorly versed in social interactions, no better than his teenage self. How pathetic. Reluctantly, he removed his cigarette from his lips, puffing smoke through his nostrils.

"Fine." the man replied, firm with his words. Years of practicing the same responses to keep anybody from prying into his life had trained him to be quick and decisive in his responses to such questions. Such needless questions. And it worked especially well with the nosiest of customers. He got up, sticking the cigarette back in the corner of his mouth, and brushed his clothes of the inexistent crumbs and specks of dust that bothered him so much. "What about yourself, then? The day finds you carrying a spade around the woods?" Ross shot back, surveying the stranger now that he was closer. It was startling, how tall the man was - people had called him tall, and he accepted it, but this? A whole other level.

Durran let a bark of jovial laughter preface he response. “Why yes, indeed. The day finds me carrying a spade through the woods. Looking around a big old boulder flow. So to say. Buildin’ meself a house a good, oh, twenty short minutes from here. Hope it won’t be much further till one shows itself betwixt the trees. Still, won’t be much o’ a problem if I have te walk far for one. Though, at that point, I’d have better luck digging the needed stone just straight from the ground. Tis a hit or miss method, but it’ll serve in the end. What brings ye out so deep into the woods? Thinking of buildin’ a place out here too? Or perhaps jus’ ta be alone with your thoughts.”

It didn’t escape Durran that the man wanted to be out on his own. His reluctance to respond. The shortness of it bespoke of trying to force the conversation for some sake. Likely trying to appear friendly. Still, the attempt was nice enough and Durran had the suspicion that the fellow was actually a decent enough bloke if given the right amount of chance and time. Now, he had absolutely no idea how long that would take. In the same instant, he was little bothered by the idea of it taking quite some time.