Currach was sitting out on the bench that afternoon, staring into the fire he’d just recently kindled. It was a rather tranquil day, all things considered. This fire in particular wasn’t ceremonial—according to the others, it had been a rather chilly day and he’d gone out of his way to start a nice fire for everyone, but people seemed to be enjoying it, nonetheless. While the others seemed to be enjoying themselves socializing and such, he had been polishing Red Eagle’s blade. It gleamed fervently against the fire.

All in all, it had been a rather nice day, and he was in a rather good mood. Maybe later he’d consider communing with the old gods.