The day goes on. Eric feels more himself than he ever has in a way, yet, feels different than he ever has. The tea and herbs worked miracles on his stomach and nerves and well-being and he was able to eat a full regular meal partway through the evening with everyone else at the community home. His relief is noticeable and others are glad for him to be feeling better.

Discussion drags on and suddenly Jim stands up in a huff of frustration, before he speaks he takes a breath to make sure he speaks in a calm tone and then says "I gotta take a little break and cool down. I'm going to go for a little walk and use one of the outhouses that are at a distance. I'll be back 30 minutes or so, fill me in on what I miss when I get back, but please continue the meaningful discussion, okay?" They all acknowledge and he walks off.

30 minutes go by like it's a few minutes and the discussion continues and is going well and no one thinks much of Jim's absence. Then, another hour goes by and the group realizes it's getting later into the evening and that Jim hasn't returned. They aren't exactly sure how much time has passed, and so they continue their discussion with an awareness that he should be returning any minute. He doesn't.

"Hold on, everyone." Someone interupts the general flow. "I think it's weird Jim hasn't returned yet, perhaps we should go check on him?"

"That's a good idea." Say several others, and the entire group collectively heads out onto the porch.

"Well, there's a couple outhouses at a distance in different directions, does anyone know if Jim has a preference for either of them?"

There is a pause and no answer.

"Okay then, let's split into groups and quickly go out to them and check. If any group finds him, whistle or holler for us to hear you and we'll meet." They do so. As one group travels along the path towards an outhouse they find Jim who seems to have been on his way back to the community home from the outhouse and suffered a terrible accident. They call to the others and the rest of the villagers join them along the path to see Jim's fate.

He lies in the path with a giant oak tree branch that is at least fifteen feet long and at least a foot and a half in diamater has landed on him and crushed him. He is smashed, his eyes are bugged, his limbs are twisted.


James (Jim) Peterson is dead.

Jim was 34 years old when he died. He was the older of the two well-known Peterson brothers. They were both well-known for at least a few hundred miles in every direction for their axe skills their ability to clear more trees and forest area faster than anyone most in the area had ever heard of. He and his brother were a two-team mega-force of unmatched forest-clearing. They had never found a tree the two of them weren't able to fell (and some trees in the area get to be more than just a few feet in diameter!)

Jim liked to wake before sunrise and watch the light start to creep in through the tree coverage. He liked to make breakfast and have it eaten early with bunch of food ready for Jay whenever he got awake and to it.

Jim enjoyed peaceful mornings. He would usually like to whittle wood and bird-watch off the front porch, or sometimes go fishing in the creek, in which case Jay would notice his gear gone and come find you when he was ready, and often would join him depending on the how pressing the need was to get work done that day.

Jim's passion for cutting trees came at an early age, 7 or 8 years old. One day he and Jay had each taken axes from their father's work shed and went on a walk with them you through the woods. The two found what they thought would make for an excellent spot to overlook part of a valley on a nice incline, if only the trees hadn't been so thick. And so they started to thin them. They spent several hours chopping away the trees until their hands bled from raw hands and popped blisters, which then got infected and kept them from chopping more trees for months.

As soon as he was able to sufficiently grip an axe again he was back out in the woods, clearing the same spot as before, completely unaware of what he had started or were getting into. After over a year, they had cleared only one quarter of the spot they had imagined getting cleared on that first day in the woods with axes. After several years of this behavior from them both it became apparent that clear to Jim that it would become his life's work, and as a young teen he was already considered very skilled.

One day on a trip to the city Jim and his brother saw one of the notices encouraging anyone interested in being part of establishing a new village to come and discuss such a potential and meet others who were interested.

They jumped at the idea, excited to be part of helping to shape out an area in nature somewhere, were old enough that their parents couldn't tell them not to go, and they'd been here since the beginning.

They had not only cleared trees to make fields and farms and meadows and places for homes to be built, but have also thinned some areas to allow for a break in the density of the forest and to accentuate certain geographies of the area in varying spots.

Jim felt very connected to these woods. A lot of people viewed him as a powerful force against the mass of trees that exist, but in his extensive felling he came to realize that it is the trees that have the real power. With all his cutting and clearing, he *knew* that their immensity and power is unmatched and that he was but a small bit in the midst of them all and always would be.

Jim loved Oakwood Village and everyone that is a part of it. He truly wanted to help the community during this trying time. He was a dedicated and loyal normal Villager.