Chapitre 451: 351 - Lumberjack

It was almost fun, sitting at the treeline, munching on some grubs that I'd found, watching the supply wagons roll in.

Especially the wobbly ones, with gigantic bladders of leather and roofs that looked like giant parasols (called umbrellas by uncouth barbarians such as myself).

I ignored another [Poison: 1] save, just enjoying a morning of watching...

And then I was REALLY watching. The bladder carts had ridden straight into the mud. Deliberately. Only instead of arguing whose fault it was that they were all stuck, the drovers calmly exited, some with axes in hand, others to ready them. On the left side of each cart, they hacked away the bindings, allowing the sides to rotate into the muck, like ramps.

And then, they and the mules pulled ropes, to pull the bladders splashing to that side. Aided, of course, by the passengers.