After several grueling hours wielding axes and saws, Ben and Liam had successfully felled the two decent-sized evergreens. As Ben panted heavily, barely standing from exhaustion, Liam seemed full of vigor as he used intricate ropes and levers to hoist the massive timbers onto a cart he had assembled.

"This magic wagon of mine will haul these babies back to your cabin lickety-split! Built it myself to carry huge log loads with minimal horsepower," Liam remarked proudly. He strapped down the logs with finesse that reflected his many years navigating these woods as a lumberjack.

When they arrived at Ben's old family home on the edge of the village, Liam generously unloaded and stacked the batch of timber right next to the front porch.

"I cannot thank you enough for your help today, Liam," Ben said earnestly to his longtime friend. "You've already done for me more favors than I could ever repay over the years."

Liam smiled humbly and put his hand on Ben's shoulder. "Oh enough, think nothing of it. Your parents looked out for me plenty when we were young'uns. Consider this long overdue payback."

Ben was filled with immense gratitude, both for the raw materials to achieve his ambition as well as for this unconditional generosity that seemed increasingly scarce. As the two friends said their goodbyes, Ben's stomach loudly rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything substantial in days.

"Ha, sounds like somebody's running on empty!" Liam chuckled. "No wonder you were barely able to swing that axe earlier."

Ben grinned sheepishly, a bit embarrassed of his impoverished state. "Yes, well...let's just say some former debt collectors have nearly bled my pockets fully dry. I've been living on crumbs and ditch water since I returned."

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Liam raised an eyebrow, looking concerned. "In that case, why don't you do a spot of fishing for supper? The streams around here remain chock full of juicy trout."

Ben nodded blankly before smacking his forehead. "Duh! You know, it never even occurred to me somehow...I guess I'm so used to modern conveniences I forgot how we used to subsist on the land's bounty."

Liam laughed loudly and threw an arm around his friend. "It's official - you city slickers are hopeless! Lucky for you, this backwoods bumpkin still knows how to provide." He gestured for Ben to follow him back to his cottage on the edge of the village.

"I may not have much either Ben, but we will sure as sunlight never starve. Let's fatten you up some before you waste away entirely!" Liam's steadfast generosity moved Ben deeply and he couldn't resist embracing his friend once more.

"Hey hey, enough caressing!" Liam protested playfully. "Begging your pardon good sir, but I prefer the fair maiden variety!" The two chortled at their old comic rhythm rekindling so quickly.

Sitting down to break bread with Liam's family that evening, with young Lani recounting their earlier encounter, Ben felt a spiritual nourishment that superseded even the hearty meal's satiation of his empty belly. The unconditional care exemplified by this unpretentious family reflected the tribal communal values that village life depended on when resources were scant but people had each other.

In the wider realm beyond Everwoods, this way of belonging had eroded as machinery and money mediated relationships. But within these sheltered rural villages, the old fabric yet endured. It manifested in villagers trading day labor and surplus crops without ledgers or thought of payment, simply honoring an unspoken code of community inheritance.

Of course greedy apples like the chief could still spoil batches, hoarding the broadcast seeds. But Liam's family modeled the antidote to such decay - nourishing the soil for the next fruiting. This was the cycle Ben sought to nurture through the artistic refuge he aimed to build alongside the timber so generously granted him by the forest spirits and delivered by his selfless companion.

By Evening's end, bellies full of trout and camaraderie, Ben felt connected to the land’s rhythms once more. As he gazed up at the medieval constellations glimmering brighter here than he had ever glimpsed on Earth, inspiration struck him. If he returned again to the tilled concrete jungles beyond the atmosphere’s distortions, he would transmit the jeweled tales of these guardian trees and village stewards in his totem carvings and weavings - seeds that might take root in some thirsty souls across the celestial seas.