.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
Although Mesec had seen crafters at work before, it was an entirely different thing to do it himself. And he really didn’t have that much time to prepare, either. Perhaps he should have practiced a little on his own before waltzing up to this little meeting and offering his help - but there was nothing that he could do about that now. First his brother had come, greeting him with a smile as always and Mesec found it easy to return. He didn’t miss Riona looking around for Lyra, however, and quickly whispered to her: “She’s out hunting with Lucius, but I bet she’ll be back soon now that she knows you’re here.” And just as he said it, he could feel the slam of an exclamation through their bond as Lucius tried to keep Lyra focused while all she could think was getting to her fellow foxes.
Sacre’s crafting request brought a laughing smile to Mesec’s silver gaze as he watched his brother and the glowing Sun God figurine. Perhaps he felt a little uncomfortable making the figurine of his mother but at the same time, who would be better than him to do it? Mesec liked to think he was one of a few that really knew the Moon Goddess - as much as anyone could. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.” More than a little self-conscious, Mesec tried to focus and do what he had seen Graasvoel do - calling the mists forward and crafting them into an object. It sound simple enough, but it took the Nightwind a couple tries before he too had a pool of mist around his hooves. He thought of his mother, of her pride and her complexities.
It was tempting to have her trotting, frozen in a frolicking pose, but in the end Mesec chose something similar to the pose that the Sun God was in, so that they might match for all their differences. There on the ground stood a figurine of his mother - just slightly smaller than the Sun God’s figurine, as she was shorter than him in real life. She stood proudly, with her head lifted and (Mesec liked to imagine) a twinkle of judgement in her glass eyes.
He stepped back, so Sacre might investigate. “What do you think?” He grinned, happy with this work and with the realization that he had created it all on his own. “I don’t know if she would approve but I think it’s rather like her.” Mesec added with a small laugh.
Next was a yearling Mesec did not know the name of, but recognized from meetings and the day the griffins had attacked the foals. What she might need of phials he wasn’t quite sure, but he was happy to oblige. So again, he pulled on the mists - finding that they came a little easier this time (though not on the first try still). The first phial turned out deformed, in that it was just a solid chunk of glass and had a slight bend to it - so it wasn’t going to do anyone any good. He tried again, hoping that no one would judge him too harshly for the mistake, and successfully made three better phials that would actually be of use. “There. Perhaps you can find a weaver to make you a bag to keep them all in?”
Sacre’s crafting request brought a laughing smile to Mesec’s silver gaze as he watched his brother and the glowing Sun God figurine. Perhaps he felt a little uncomfortable making the figurine of his mother but at the same time, who would be better than him to do it? Mesec liked to think he was one of a few that really knew the Moon Goddess - as much as anyone could. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.” More than a little self-conscious, Mesec tried to focus and do what he had seen Graasvoel do - calling the mists forward and crafting them into an object. It sound simple enough, but it took the Nightwind a couple tries before he too had a pool of mist around his hooves. He thought of his mother, of her pride and her complexities.
It was tempting to have her trotting, frozen in a frolicking pose, but in the end Mesec chose something similar to the pose that the Sun God was in, so that they might match for all their differences. There on the ground stood a figurine of his mother - just slightly smaller than the Sun God’s figurine, as she was shorter than him in real life. She stood proudly, with her head lifted and (Mesec liked to imagine) a twinkle of judgement in her glass eyes.
He stepped back, so Sacre might investigate. “What do you think?” He grinned, happy with this work and with the realization that he had created it all on his own. “I don’t know if she would approve but I think it’s rather like her.” Mesec added with a small laugh.
Next was a yearling Mesec did not know the name of, but recognized from meetings and the day the griffins had attacked the foals. What she might need of phials he wasn’t quite sure, but he was happy to oblige. So again, he pulled on the mists - finding that they came a little easier this time (though not on the first try still). The first phial turned out deformed, in that it was just a solid chunk of glass and had a slight bend to it - so it wasn’t going to do anyone any good. He tried again, hoping that no one would judge him too harshly for the mistake, and successfully made three better phials that would actually be of use. “There. Perhaps you can find a weaver to make you a bag to keep them all in?”
MESEC
the nightwind
 |
