Olaf swung his axe. Tree after tree fell before him. His red shaggy beard grew heavier in the misty rain.
“Father, why do we work like this? Why do we work so hard?” Sigrid asked looking at the next farm over. “They don’t.”
“You are young and don’t remember. Upon the fortieth cycle of the sun, winter comes with the darkness.”
“Winter?” Sigrid said bewildered.
“Yes winter. And winter will bring ice, cold, snow, and death for those who are not ready. Grab an axe daughter. Today we work.”