"You are a skinner yes?"

The voice, strong and rough, weaves through Coris' ears. His head turns immediately, gold eyes locking intently on Ulrik. Skinner. Coris prefers the more politically correct label of tanner, or even leathersmith, but at the bare bones of it a skinner is exactly what he is. He wouldn't dare correct a maker anyway.

"Aye. A tanner as 'tis called in ma land. Coris ma name." Coris responds smoothly enough, even dropping the hint of his ideal title. Inside however his body is clenching and coiling while his stomach flips in out as a swarm of butterflies seems to fill it. He can't believe a maker is addressing him!

It doesn't end there however. Ulrik goes on to flatter the leather worker, propositioning a collaboration between them. The butterflies have now moved to his feet, Coris feels like he might just float off the ground... "Skin is a useful tool." A compliment! Coris is swooning and his groin aches with all the pleasure surfacing in regions other than down there. He is overwhelmed and stumbles a bit just standing as he tries to reign in his composure to offer a comprehensible reply.

"Y-y-yes of c-course." Is all Coris can get between his grinning teeth. Luckily the mares begin their argument, distracting him for a moment and helping settle all his fluctuating emotions. Eventually Mauja intervenes and breaks the herd apart, now leaving solely alone with Ulrik. Jumpy like a hare in a wolf's den the leather maker glances feebly around for something to strike up conversation.

"Did you name it?" Coris asks stupidly, his eyes only finding the machine wolf and his tongue running away before he could think of anything more profound to mention or ask. Instantly he berates himself, highly doubting the engineer names his creations. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Mauja approaches then and saves Coris from any more embarrassing minutes spent astride Ulrik. Nearly sweating, despite the cooler weather as of late, Coris glances up at the king. It would seem he's gone from the volcano into the dragon's nest however. The time to truly display his skill is at hoof and Coris still hasn't even gotten his falcon. He'll be made a fool id the king needs a demonstration, in front of Ulrik no less! Could this day get any worse.

It wouldn't do well to let Mauja, or Ulrik, know that he'd been outcasted by his herd for failing to ever show magical potential. So he'd lie a bit, just a little bit, and hope against hope the Moon Mare would come through for him in time. At the very least, he could still do some minor things with the talents he learned by hoof and horn alone. "Actually sir, ma powers are rather limited, at the moment." Coris begins, hoping his voice does not betray him. It's not the first time the stud has lied before, and his voice sounds steady enough, but the presence of the maker Ulrik has him acting in unpredictable ways making him suspicious of himself. "Ah have seemed ta, uh, lost touch with it as such. Stress mayhaps, or maybe muh chi is blocked from an injury..." All theories he'd heard as a boy, although none ever proved true, not in his case. He swallows hard, eyes jumpy with shame at his failure. "But ah, I have seen to the Moon Mare, for aid in this matter. Given time, I'm likely ta be functional soon."

There, as much honesty and lie as he dare give. It should be satisfactory, he hopes. Mauja doesn't seem the time to welcome useless horns, nor the type to forgive easily should Coris not accomplish what he says he will.

"Buttn othawise I can do tha killing and the skin-takin still. All which I'd need even iffun feeling fine. Once I'm fixed right, I can line armor, such as metal. Make leather armor, not as strong but light and flexible. Create saddlery for companions, many of them have fierce claws. Pouches to store and gather, such as the one on me. Ropes to bind, hand, tie... Connectors, to link pieces together. Blankets for the cold months, snow shoes for the blizzards and the ice. Tarps and tents to avoid the rain... There is too much to say or know it all, my king. Better to ask what I cannot do." As Coris spoke his accent began to fade, his nerves calming down now that the business of his inadequacies is over. That and, just naturally speaking of the greatness of his craft he grows bold and prideful. He hoped to show off for Ulrik, let the maker know he is not inferior - Ulrik already complimented him once, he hoped to forge an ideal and lasting relationship with the fellow however. The more time in his presence, the less likely Coris would be to turn rabid fangirl.