Crazy was right.

Mathias strolled over to the cleared patch of earth. He stopped in the center of the clearing and began shedding off his fur coat. Then came his over-shirt.
Once he had finished peeling of his garments, he tossed them off to the side.

Now, only protected by a thin, white under-shirt, he taunted you.

"Alright, Turtle. Show me what you can do. Just try not to stare directly at me. My awesome might blind you."

He grinned and crossed his arms.

With only a thin under-shirt to cover them, Mathias' muscles were easy to trace. They were bulging and clearly defined, almost sculpted. His arms were composed solid muscle, leading up to a broad chest. His pectorals almost threatened to ripped the shirt in two. And those abs... Indescribable.

Power radiated from Mathias' underwear model-like physique. Normally you would pass out on the spot from over-exposure to hotness, but you could only shiver. This man wanted you to fight him.

You attempted to take some solace in the idea he was probably flexing to look ripped. Even with that in mind, your feet refused to move. It felt as though you were rooted to the ground. The ax, which was light, began to draw your arms towards the ground with an increasing heaviness.

"Aww, are you shy? Lukas says the shy ones are always the cutest. Especially when their names are (y/n)" the Dane chimed.

Your face began to burn with a bright red hue, similar to a chili-pepper. Embarrassment, anger, and awkwardness all came together in one shaky heave of the ax. You brought the ax in front of you, holding it diagonally with two hands.

Mathias burst into a fit of chuckling.
"Oh no! Someone help me! I'm being threatened by a turtle!"

You felt to chest begin to quake with rapid breaths. Fury surged into your thoughts until all you could think about was kicking Mathias' well-built butt.

Grrraaahhh!

With one enraged cry, you flew towards the snarky Dane in a whirlwind of fury. You lifted your battle-ax high, prepared to whack him with the butt of the ax.

Something struck the back of your knees, causing your rage to evaporate and your momentum to send you hurtling towards the earth. Within a second, a strong arm caught you and hoisted you upwards until you were face to face with a grinning blonde.

"How did you like that?" Mathias asked. 

"It was pretty aw-" you stopped yourself. "Awful. Pretty awful."

You realized he was dipping you and wriggled out of his grasp. Back on your feet, you swayed a bit before steadying yourself.

"You were going to say awesome, weren't you?"

"Pssh, no." You casted your gaze towards the ground.

Mathias winked. "What ever you say, (y/n)! Get ready."

You held the ax as you did before. This time with less fire and more cold determination. You were going to beat this jerk until he was an obnoxious, ham-scented pulp.

Hours passed, all yielding the same results: charge, swing, get knocked down, get up and repeat. You grew more comfortable with the ax, but you still had trouble dealing with Mathias. It was a victory just to stay on your feet and watch your weapon clatter to the ground.

Eventually, the sun began to sink below the horizon. Sweat poured from every pore on your body. Every inch of you ached and stung. The only thing that wasn't exhausted was your will to trounce the blonde.

You glared at him from across the field. His hair was matted down with sweat, his veins bulged, and his crisp white shirt was caked with dirt. Victory was near; it was your turn to smirk.

Gripping your weapon tightly, you charged. As you zoomed towards Mathias, you noticed something was off. He wasn't smiling, just staring into space. Within a second, he collapsed.

Your heart raced nearly as fast as your thoughts. An icy terror shot up your spine and formed a lump in your throat.

I killed him! What am I going to tell Lukas and Berwald!?

You fell to his side and lowered your head to his chest, murmuring frantic prayers.

Thump. Thump.

A hush fell over you. You listened silently, hope welling up in your chest.

Thump. Thump.

There it was, a heart beat. You gasped and hugged the unconscious man.

Water! I'll splash him with water!

You flew into the cabin, avoiding the kitchen where Lukas and Berwald were talking. You caught a snippet of the conversation as you ascended the stairs. A few whispers reached you in a distinctly Swedish accent.

"... Will she like it?..."

"... Of course, though I still think my painting was a better idea..."

"...Yes, that ended... well..."

You mounted the top of the steps and the hushed dialog receded. You placed your mind on the task at hand; you must find a bucket.

Hmm. Berwald should have a bunch of tools.

You glanced towards the doorway to the kitchen, assuring that neither Lukas nor Berwald could see you. Quietly, you tip-toed towards Berwald's room.

There it was, the first the door you had opened on this insane journey. The room was similar to how you remembered it. The scent of pine swirled in the air, the walls were a crisp blue, and the little tidy work bench leaned against the wall.

You would have savored the moment if it wasn't for the unconscious Dane outside.

Surveying the bench's surface, you only found wood shavings and whittling tools. You brushed the shelves above the bench. You fingers met nothing but wooden blocks.

Empty-handed and distraught, you sighed, turned and began to retreat to another room. Something glinting by the doorway caught your eye. It was a rusty, metal bucket!

The bucket was odd; it was distorted in some places, bending the metal into uncommon shapes. The handle was shaped out of birch wood and stained with dainty, tangled ivy vines. The craftsmanship was not Nordic.

Even odder, it was overflowing with palm-sized wooden carvings. They looked delicate, intricate and difficult to replicate; yet, there were dozens of them. They were all missing limbs and unfinished, but they hinted towards being some sort of avian, a duck maybe.

Gently, you lifted the bucket and deposited the misshapen carvings on the work bench.

With the bucket in hand, you scampered out of Berwald's room and down the stairs. Your feet flitted over the rocky beach as you advanced towards the lake. You knelt down and used the strange bucket to gouge out a portion of the lake's water.

You wobbled towards the cleared field with the filled bucket, but there was no Mathias. You could distinctly remember him passing out right in front of you. Why wasn't he there?

You were preparing to head into the cabin when you caught the scent of burning spruce. Scanning the area, you discovered a plume of smoke rising from behind a hill. The small hill was situated next to the lake and the cleared field. You set down the bucket, stumbled towards the hill and scrambled up the side.

Peering over the peak of the hill, you felt the intense heat of a blazing bonfire. Mathias was lounging on the ground beside the fire, shirtless of course. His eyes gleamed as he gazed up at you.

"Hey, Turtle! Come down and have some food!"

You slid down the mound of dirt and sat next to the Dane.

Against the wishes of your growling stomach, you asked: "what kind of food?"

"Well, I told you I would show you some more of my pølse, right?" He smiled and wiggled a stick with sausage on it.

"Oh..."

"Yeah, what did you think I meant?"

You blushed a bit and settled closer to the fire. "Don't worry about it. We have plenty of other things to discuss..."