Born into the Smith family as one of two children, and the only girl, it appeared that my mother had just found a more well developed site than the family homestead as granny seemed quite impressed. I set to work catching rabbits, tidying up and helping tend the berry farm. Granny and my brother worked the carrot farm a little south of the kiln and berries. Make fire, my brother said as I left to retrieve the rabbits. You make it I said.
Water for the berries was dried up and the nearest ponds were too far for little tots to fetch so I made a bellows and began smithing tools. My first and last child was a boy who said f a little too late for me to save him. When I went to grab a few berries I saw most of the bushes were languishing and there is my brother, with new rows of soil, planting milkweed. Why? “We got carrots” he says. But there is plenty of wild milkweed just north. “Just make babies.” He says.
Really? So they can starve at the berry bushes you weren’t tending while I was making tools? Ah, well, live on carrots then, Carl. Live alone. I told him to fork himself, made a backpack, packed some tools and headed out for a walkabout. I saw many interesting things. Came across several starter camps (oh, people! Smithing before farming is just silly!) and was bitten by a sneaky wolf just after I turned forty without having any additional children.
Damn you, Carl, you misogynist. May your skin turn forever orange from your diet of only carrots.
good old Carl XD