The overseer at the front continued to explain what he expected of the group when it came to the repairs. It was simple enough, find any upturned stones that are meant for paths and put them where they are meant to be. Some of the walking paths had also become covered with natural debris and had generally turned “unacceptable” for the prissy golly students. It was essentially a routine clean and repair job, turned difficult due to time and location. The overseer took little time to explain, wanting the rest to get to work before the students became agitated at the state of the gardens. Garamir sighed as they were “turned loose” to get to work, resulting him in shouldering past the rest of the passives in front of him and grabbing the provided rakes and burlap sacks to collect debris in. He could tell most of the others were not used to the feeling of the Western Gardens, with Garamir sneaking glances as those newer to the location accidentally dropping some of their rakes, tired and unsettling visages coming over them. The Wakefield was quick to find any amount of shade to shelter from the heat, which had already begun to soak his clothing with sweat.
Braxley quickly found his way to the side of Garamir, his lithe form snaking through the crowd of servants.
“Getting the shade, plum smart...” his roommate rasped.
“Shut it.” Garamir blurted in response. He had no capacity for small talk right now, the heat and gardens getting to his head. He set forth in raking the leaves and twigs that practically littered the path in front of him, sweeping them into the sack he carried. This went on for a bit, with Garamir finding any excuse to take small breaks between raking and helping in re-paving the pathways. Eventually, Braxley made his signature cackle, tapping Garamir on the shoulder.
“Look at that one. Thinking he’s some clocking brute?” the pale roommate chattered.
Garamir took one glance at a lean, pale passive trying his best to heave forward a small boulder that had rolled down a small hill from where it normally lined a cobbled path. The passive’s hair had begun to plaster to their face due to the heat, causing Garamir to snort. He tried his best to get back to work, but was constantly interrupted with Braxley’s snickering, who had now decided to forgo their work and instead gape at the struggling passive. With a sigh and a drop of his rake, Garamir straightened up and walked over to the passive in question, a condescending look on his face all the while. Aware as a few stares from the servants followed his gait, Garamir quickly took hold of the boulder from the opposite side, pulling the rock towards its desired destination, now up the small hill it had rolled down. He then offered a glance towards the man he just stole a boulder from.
“You clean to do it the rest o’ the way?”