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Summary
Sebastian can’t imagine wanting to do any of this farm labor, but she’s diving headfirst into the thick of it, and he can’t help but admire her grit and the gleam of determination in her eye. And so he agreed to “hang out”, following her around her grandfather’s farmland like a lost puppy as she returns the hoe to a storage box by her front porch and produces a gleaming axe, forged with copper bars she’d smelted herself in the furnace Clint had instructed her on building. Because of fucking course she did.
Or: Farmer chops down a tree and Sebastian watches.
Sebastian/Farmer, farmer uses she/her pronouns but otherwise no description of appearance or identifying characteristics.
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