DRAGOMIR

He nods in agreement that it is a pleasant enough experience to see her again, himself less vivacious in nature than the painted mare and thus remain silent but smiling through her coursing of words. From his experience, most women are a lot of words and flashy smiles, batting lashes and sweet smells; it’s no different with the gentler sex of foreign herds as it is in the Edge, he surmises with a faint glow added to his grin. His own weight shifts restlessly beneath him in his growing anxiety, realizing that he knew nothing at all of the stores the healers currently had that would allow him to say whether or not it would suffice. He did at least know the name of yarrow, and could vouch that they were useful, but he knew little of the medical purposes of dandelion.

His slow blink of thought spares him enough time to allow Brisa to enter with her friendly nicker of greeting, the stallion turning his face to see the approach of another pale and child laden mare. It seems the two know each other which is of great relief to the large bay crafter – he doesn’t excel in the social arts and is loathe to have to limp a conversation along between two women, and it is most beneficial that the ladies themselves may carry on most of the talk on their own with little input on his behalf.

The words are playful and draw a more vibrant tone to his smile, his eyes flickering from one woman to the other and landing on Brisa as she inquired as to who he was. He nods hello, even as Parelia delves into the introductions on her own; filing away the woman’s name for later reference, knowing her from the herd meetings and occasional sightings to be one of the healers of the herd. His nose points towards the heap of herbs that Parelia had brought with her, his gruff and deep voice rumbling out into the air. "Those are for you and the other gardeners, but you can stay to see me work if Parelia does not mind," he explains, turning his focus back to the painted mare as she continued to speak.

He notes her nervousness and replies to her suggestion with a smile that is gentle and understanding, shaking his head no as he steps forward and rests his gourd on the ground between Parelia’s side and himself. "I don’t think it will be necessary at this time," he doesn’t mean to sound rude but realizes once its out that he does, a hesitation following his words that is quickly followed by the rushed sound of the rest, "but I’ll remember it should I need help in the future." Shuffling his gourd around with his hoof, he stares intently at the wing joint for a moment before clearing his throat.

"If you’ll lift the wing up as high as it will go…" he says as he reaches into his collection of stones and pulls out a sliver of turquoise and another chunk of the aquamarine, waiting for her to oblige him before balancing the two stones along the top of her joint line, repeating the process until he held up several stones with his nose and closed his eyes tight. Speaking softly so as not to lose the balance he’d managed, he takes a moment to explain before he begins, "Hold very still and be silent," his voice murmurs as his eyes shut, and his focus builds.

He sees them in his mind, the encircling shape of the glass and the precise thickness and dimensions they will need to allow her to fly with them on, beginning the process by creating a band of glass the approximate width and shape he desires. He’ll go back in once they are in place and tested for fit and add decoration – maybe some flames, and detailed along the borders with small bits of the turquoise he’d have left after making each band.

Along the wing joint, a shimmering light builds, as if thousands of stars wreath the wing and the stones he has laid against it and holds with his muzzle, a faint lining of sweat accumulating in the folds of his body as he focuses his will and brings the glass into being while spreading the color of the stones throughout it. When he opens his eyes, it is in place, shining and perfect.

"Test the wing to see if it still moves freely before I move on to the next one," he asks with some force, not tactful enough to ask kindly and be gentle in his suggestions, "I’ll do some detail work once they’ve both been fitted properly."

@[Brisa]

CrafteR

world's edge