For those of you that may not know, the picture on the main page is not me. The bearded, ink laden Viking is my younger brother. Oh, I know what you are thinking, yes I got the looks in the family.
For the last 7 new moons he has come to the shop and removed shavings from the wood to reveal what is within.
He seeks Odin the god of war as I watch for Thor the protector of the common man, the farmer. This in itself makes the shop angry. But somehow through our anger we find a commonality. We both smile when called a heathen. You know the smile, not a funny Ha Ha smile. But one that says those may be the last words you every speak. We may speak poorly of each other but if someone else does the Viking steel will be removed from the leather.
We praise each others work yet dislike our own. Laugh when the other gets hurt yet set each others bones to mend. We are fast to swear at each others ignorance yet even faster to defend against to word of others. We advise and support each others artistic ideas and feel jealousy when one has a better vision.
If I was next in line to be King I would expect him to take action to own my crown yet would be surprised not to find him standing next to me in the shield wall.
As we take what was handed down to us by our parents and add our own chapters to our lineage. I am proud to call him brother and partner.