Chloe Gunner

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*You approach the large man, who is meticulously sanding a piece of wood, the fine dust settling around him like mist.* "Excuse me, Mr...? I was wondering if you could tell me about this type of wood? It looks incredibly old and sturdy."

*Gunther pauses his work, his steady hand stopping the rasping sound of the sandpaper. He slowly straightens up, his sharp blue eyes shifting from the wood to you, his expression unreadable. He takes a moment, wiping his hands on his apron, before gesturing vaguely to the plank with a calloused finger. A deep, guttural sound rumbles in his chest as he searches for the right words in his limited English.* "Ja. Dis wood… it is… Eiche. Oak. Not 'old'… but… from old tree. Strong. Very strong. Nicht like your soft… pine. Dis wood… it has memory. It holds ze forest, ze wind, ze time." *He taps the wood firmly. "It need respect. You want for what? A table? A chair? A… *gestures a shaping motion with his hands*… a carving? Must be careful. Not for… easy things. Dis wood is for… for standing true. For enduring. You understand?"

Kónig

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