Early evening sunlight streamed down through the breaks in the crown of leaves above the small rustic cottage. Dappled light was cast over the slate roof which grew moss. The two-story cottage house was simple in its design with a large kitchen and dining area, moderate living room, and large bedroom upstairs. Vines grew over the stucco walls and into the cracks of the chimney. The place was crumbling in a charming way and would have looked abandoned except for the young man who stood out front whistling a tune as he chopped wood.
The man was tall and lithe, his body working up a sweat in the light brown tunic he wore, the lacing open to reveal the pallid skin of his chest as he moved. Each swing was accompanied by the tinkling of baubles coming from his tall pointed hat and belts. The wind rustled his long wavy light brown hair and the crows feathers which were braided into it. He paused to savor the breeze then went back to work placing a log then splitting it.
He worked in a steady rhythm. Place log. Hit log. Split log. Stack wood. Repeat. Then, he felt the distant quake of footsteps. Large footsteps. Stepping back from his work, the witch wiped sweat from his face before looking down the dirt path to the source of the noise. Through the trees, the witch could see a large dark figure lumbering through the trees. The creature had long brown fur and was carrying a dead boar on his shoulders as he walked toward the witch's cottage.
"Hello!" The witch called out, running out onto the path and waving one arm in welcome to the creature as its thunderous footsteps grew closer and closer till the witch could clearly see the bigfoot coming his way. Even from a distance, the witch could see a bright smile split the creature's face as he saw him.
"Hello again, Fletch." The bigfoot said as he neared the cottage, the boar now held easily under one arm then tossed beside the ring of stones that marked a place for a campfire. His deep brown eyes looked at the witch from under a mane of shaggy light brown hair, lips curled in a smile, as he then pulled the smaller man into a hug.
"I missed you!" Fletch said as he gripped the creature's fur and buried his face in his chest. The bigfoot was easily a half a man taller than Fletch's own lanky frame and he was far broader. His fur smelled of pine sap and sweat.
"I missed you too." The rumbling voice resonated in Fletch's chest.
"I didn't think I'd see you till autumn!" Fletch pulled back and looked up at the massive creature.
"Usually you wouldn't. Men interrupted my hunting grounds. I had to move on early this year." The bigfoot grumbled as he walked with Fletch off of the path and to the fire pit.
"Damn humans." Fletch muttered." But it's good to see you nevertheless, Samuel."
"It is good to see you too, Fletch." Samuel's voice rumbled like distant thunder. He sat on the ground and it quaked as he hit the dirt.
"I had the feeling we'd need firewood. Couldn't figure out why I'd need to chop so much in the middle of summer, but something told me I'd need it." Fletch began to pile the split logs in the center of the fire pit. "My intuition is never wrong."
"Don't I know it." Samuel muttered, a chuckle in his voice. Fletch gave him a pointed look before going back to what he was doing then lighting the fire.
"I'll fetch you some water from the well. You must be thirsty." Fletch said as he left the bigfoot to gut the boar. He was always one to leave the bloody work to someone else and often avoided meat in his everyday diet. Samuel didn't hesitate in gutting the dead boar and then running it through with a small straight branch so it could roast over the fire. He used the first bucket of water to clean the boar and his hands and then drank the entirety of the second bucket in a couple hearty gulps.
"You know, you've come just in time for blueberry season." Fletch said as he returned to the fireside with another bucket of water. "I can make us pancakes in the morning."
"Yes, in the morning when the hog is done." Samuel said as he looked to the west where the evening sun was beginning to dip and touch the treeline, casting pink and orange light onto the clouds. In the east, the sky was still as blue as daylight.
"For the time being, let us have cheese and wine." He was already walking back toward the cottage. Samuel watched him move and felt a flutter in his chest. The witch was a handsome young-looking man with high cheekbones and iridescent green eyes; not that he showed them to many creatures. Samuel happened to be one of the lucky few. Still, his hat would remain on until dark.
Fletch returned with two bottles of wine, a 3/4th wheel of cheese, and a large loaf of cottage bread. He sat down beside Samuel and offered him one of the bottles of wine and struggled to break the wheel of cheese in half. Samuel held in a chuckle and helped him with that and the bread, taking a larger hunk for himself and giving Fletch the remainder. It would still be more than Fletch could eat on his own. Fletch then popped the cork on his own bottle of wine and sipped it from the bottle without decorum.
"Tonight is for celebrating. To friends!" Fletch called out as he clanked his bottle against Samuel's and took another drink before biting into his hunk of cheese and smiling into the glow of the fire.
"A celebration?" Samuel said, his eyes glittering.
"Indeed." Said Fletch as he looked up at Samuel who was now leaning back on one arm as he drank.