The open space was filled with the incessant sound of knocking and hammering.
Bi Fang sat on a small stool, inserting a palm-sized wooden wedge into a groove, using a forearm-length stone hammer to knock and drive it in place.
With the wooden slats stacking up, piece by piece, and being secured, the shape of the sled had essentially taken form; by its appearance alone, one could tell this was going to be a highly functional dog sled.
Not far away in the forest, the Three Fools sat in a row, occasionally lying on the ground emitting sorrowful whimpers; they watched the sled taking shape yet dared not approach, sensing an immense terror that was about to befall their dog minds, which had been thoroughly overexcited in the past week.
