It wa an ungodly December and Dyn was as so unfortunate to be out in weather that was cold enough to crystalize your breath. But, no-one could claim he was unprepared, for the many layers of clothes he wore were enough to keep in warm even in negative degrees, which it was. The ground was covered in a thin sheet of ice that made one feel as if they were on th edge of a steep cliff and about to fall. Dyn sighed, his breath freezing in midair, and plunging towards the ice in a old fashioned sort of way, and almost so fast that it hit the ice faster then you can say sheep, and it cracked, leaving a irregular-sized hole. He rolled his eyes and walked on.
You could say that Dyn was a hard worker, for his dad had died in 2002 and he now had to work and a lumberjack, which was pretty ironic for a 15 year old in the cold winter, with absolutely no supplies expect for an axe and a haul. I was a dangerous job, one for a man, but his mom was terribly sick and expecting a child, so work was not an option.
His axe was made out of dark oak wood, bound together with a thin sheet of concrete to hold it together. The blade itself was made out of a rusty iron that thats heavy and tough. It had worn over the years, all the chopping, cutting, and smacking had worn it down, and he occasionally needed to sharpen its blade so he could use it. Lately, Dyn had been making very little an hour, and his family did not have much to pay for their food, bills, and taxes. He was worried.
But Dyn got angrier and angrier, because he was weak and not making his family much, that in frustration, he swung his axe at full speed very hard at the tree. Even 5 miles away, you could hear a desperate crack sound that filled the air. Panting breaths of ice, Dyn stared helplessly up and the large redwood falling down onto him.
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