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Stop working tile 6.
Continue working all other tiles (7 Labour, +13 Food, +2 Wool, +1 Wood, +2 Stone)
Assign one worker to Clothiers Workshop (1 Labour, -2 Wool, +2 Cloth)
Construct Woodcutting Village on Tile C (2 Labour, -2 Stone)
Begin Construction of Hall of Learning (1 Labour, -1 Wood)
Start consuming 1 Tea and 2 Cloth per turn for epic morale boost

RoughBack, a young descendant of the Old Worlds druid clan, leant with his namesake against a broad Cedar, staring deep into WhiteHills northeast forest. RoughBack was slim and lanky, hardly full grown; his coming of age had taken place a mere two years ago and his experience of the Old World was limited to that of a cub. Now he finds himself apparently stripped of the honour of pursuing his clans legacy. The yeti druids had once been able to charm flora from the hearts of the most barren lands, but now even BriskFoot, their ancient and erudite council representative, finds himself unable to summon the simplest weed from these strange earths. Two years the clan has spent delving into these wilds, still finding no force within to craft their simple magics. The shame is overbearing.
 
RoughBack closed his eyes and tried, as he had so many times before, to find a connection with the woods - when a loud crash erupts nearby. RoughBacks eyes shot open, and three tall Yeti stood about a felled Pine not 30 feet in front of him. A path of similar trees - logs now - stretch behind the fallers for an indefinite distance.

"What do you think you're doing!?!" RoughBack roared, "Those tree's are perfectly healthy! This forest, you'll hurt her!"

The oldest lumberyeti, a female nearly as stout as the tree stumps around her, spoke gruffly, "You should know as well as any, druid," she spits the word as if it were a slur, "It has no feelings. This is no true forest, simply wood." She paused, apparently hoping to draw some reaction, then continued,  "The council has ordered the construction of a logging camp. The whole council, BriskFoot included."

Having no satisfactory reply to this, RoughBack simply broke into a run - towards the village.


"It seems your plan is all going quite smoothly." SwiftFur grumbled bitterly, over the sound of yeti revelry.

Removing SwiftFur from the decision making process had worked smoothly, and in his year-long absence much had been accomplished. Fresh goats-wool scarves and hats adorned the citizens as they partook in a most uncommon type of yeti celebration. They feasted on fish, and many drank tea - a rather lush supply of which had been discovered on the nearby riverbank - a few of the more outgoing yeti even indulged in a recently discovered wood-filtered liquor that was extremely potent, and possibly slightly hallucinogenic.

"My plan, as you call it, was not so complicated," SoftClaw smiled with humility and an almost undetectable hint of smugness, "and was decided upon by the entire council. In your absence, of course."

The celebration would do much to calm the worries of the general populace, she knew. The druid clans recent resistance had been dealt with quickly as well, she knew their unrest was due more to wounded pride than the wounded forest. Offering them facilities with which they could better research their arts made them feel again like they were needed, even if it's construction was left a low priority.

"Of course. It seems my appointed replacement was not so vocal when pursuing the wishes of my clan," SwiftFur stated diplomatically, "But he returns to the docks tomorrow, and I can assure you: the council will not have to operate without my sage input for the foreseeable future."
His eyes narrow, SoftClaw nods, turns, and returns to the celebration.