That time of year came again, when the sun shined and not much rain fell. The time when all the farmers wake early, and sleep late. The time when crops shine golden in the sun, ready to be cut down. Harvest on the Fenflower Farm was a different one this year, with the two of the four children gone off to Bree, and another one gone to the North it just left Corrinne. Her parents gone up to the North Downs, just leaving her and her grams. This year how ever they had the help from Hutwig 'Twiggy' Twigs who had woke early on the first day, with five farmhands heading to the farm to help out.
Hutwig lifts his sickle in his right hand, reaching into the barley with his left and grabbing a large bundle. Pulling back with the scythe, he swings it forward as low as he can to the ground and cutting the stem, holding it in a bundle still as a farmhand beside him quickly ties it with twine, dropping the bunch the ground afterwards to return to. This would be continued by three more pairs, all in a line next to each other. Cutting away at the barley, already building up a sweat in the hot autumn sun. Stepping over the grounded bundle, the technique is repeated; over and over again until a good enough distance is made.
Hutwig stops at the alleyway already cut into the field of barley, running a hand through his cut down hair, gingerly rubbing over the gash on his head. He then turns to the farmhand and nods, starting to lift a couple of bundles of barley as he can, carrying one on each of his shoulders over to the cart. Placing his two on the edge before he climbs in, pulling them over to the edge making room for plenty more. He goes back and gets the farmhands, placing them alongside his before he jumps from the cart, turning to the farmhand. "You stay in there, we will bring in the rest. You push them tight into the edge." He nods, before he turns to carry the rest. The other two pairs soon finish in cutting their barley, and they then join in moving all the bundles to the cart. Once the field had cleared, they moved to the next patch of barley and start to cut away through it. The hours of the day melting away as they work on and on, repeating these simple processes over and over as they work away.
The hours pass by, and now evening has settled over Bree-Land. Two acres of barley has been bundled down and moved to the barn. Now just forty eight acres to go. The farmhands have gone back to their own homes now, to see their families and to rest until tomorrow. All but Twig, who has now taken up a scythe and moved to a fresh field. Placing his left hand on the top handle, and his right hand on the central one, his arms straight and the blade parallel to the ground and as close as he can to it. Twisting his body to the right before he steadily twists it left, the scythe blade mowing along its length in an arc from left to right, ending just in front of Hutwig, the barley deposited to his left. He continues this, leaving the barley cut and down on the ground, going on with as much as he can throughout the night until tiredness sets in. He then places the scythe on the ground, heading back to the start before he bundles it up in his hand, placing his twine around it as he ties it himself. Moving along the line of cut barley until he finishes, the sun still about an hour away from rising.
Hutwig lets out a tired yawn, rubbing his eyes as he mumbles to himself. “C'mon, Twig. You can do this. If -you- don't do this now, then she will have to and that just isn't fair. No. So shape up, Twig!” He nods stoutly, stretching slightly before his back clicks loudly and he starts to tie quicker and in better quality. Working on until the point of where he stopped, by now the sun has peered up over the green hills of Bree. Twig lifts as many as he can, now managing to carry four at a time after some thought, placing them all in the cart. The farmhands now arrive as the sun is now in the sky, still tired from their sleep, watching Twig throw the barley through the open doors of the barn, before they head over and talk to him, letting him have an hours rest and breakfast.
Heading to the door of the house, knocking as he sways back and forth slightly, trying his best to not look exhausted though it shows in the way he is. Corrinne opens the door, looking to Twig with a raised brow at his state, asking him where he has been and doing what to look like this at this hour. After having the simply reply of ''farming... in the fields. Been awake since yesterdays morning..”. She then insisted him on going to bed, he then leaned back to look at the barn and up to the hayloft where he sleeps, thinking of the dreaded ladder climb he shakes his head, nodding to her and insisting for her to go back to sleep before he starts to walk down the steps again, heading over to the stone walling and lying down in its shade. Soon falling asleep lightly, though just over an hour later he awakes with a stretch, heading over to the fields to resume his work. This time in a different fashion, three working with scythes while three follow behind to tie up the barley, once again leaving them in the field.
The harvest has begun..
