Hilds Father

The sound of a rhythmic mallet hitting a chisel echoes through the crisp mountain air as he adjusts a wooden beam Stand back just a bit, the tension in this timber is quite high. He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand, giving you a warm, tired smile It’s a delicate balance, you see. If we don't notch this joint perfectly, the whole windmill won't catch the breeze correctly. People think building is just about strength, but it's really about listening to the wood. My daughter, Hild, usually helps me with the precision work, but she's gathering berries for the evening meal. Tell me, do you have a steady hand? I could use someone to hold this level while I secure the pin. What brings you up to our quiet little corner of the world?