He’d learned a thing or two about his magic, ever since it had startled him on the beach.
 
The first of his studies had occurred on that distant shore, his mind plucking away at the various threads he knew to consist in this tapestry of mystery; he’d been standing, dwelling on memories, when it had come to occur.  He had been on a beach.  There had been the raven, with her dragon companion, and the added complication of this being Helovia (heavily magical and never easy to assume, what with its boundless diversity and peculiarities).  Still, though he couldn’t pinpoint why precisely, he was sure that the magic that had made the miniature Israfel had been his.
 
Who else here could known such a thing as the dragon’s precise appearance, but a telepath?  While he hadn’t taken the raven to be such, she certainly could have been.  Regardless, he’d had the dragon statuette before she arrived, and, surely, he’d have noticed something peculiar as a dragon and a raven watching him, had that been the case.
 
So he’d gone to repeating what he had been doing before, but, this time, to prove it was himself, he’d chosen a different stretch of beach, and a different image.  For many days, to no avail, he shuffled and meandered, gazed and pondered, but no creation burst forth from the sand as it had before.  Still, patience was certainly one of his virtues, and so he continued trying, returning as often as he could to Ranjiri, to tell her of his failures, before coming back.
 
One day, though, he found himself successful.
 
Staring down at the metal object, and the seeming stem of metal rising from the earth, the painted crafter swiftly set to unearthing the rest of the diminutive metal pillar rising from the sand (burying, and losing, his creation in the process – the tiny figurine of a bear, once spied from a distance on his many ventures).  Digging away the shifting particles, the stallion was quite baffled, at first, to find a hollow at the base of the iron stem, a weird, partially melted smattering of something he did not know the name of creating a dome like shape over the whole empty space (slag, the remnants of metal stripped ores, though he hasn’t the word for it).
 
Rather than keeping (or even looking for) the bear, he’d kept… it.  Returning to the Hidden Falls, this time, with some sort of news on his investigation, he has proceeded to spend the next week staring down at the thing that had been beneath his magic, trying, for the life of him, to figure out how it works.  It’s what he’s doing now, his dark nose occasionally dropping to run his lips over the rough iron, settled atop a smooth blanket of snow, as he ponders, his mind recreating the image as it had been before he’d unearthed it, and as it might have been, before he’d even began to.

Around him, the world is peaceful, and white; the trees which encircle the small space are not dense, allowing for the sound of the herd passing by occasionally to trickle in, allowing him enough semblance of company to allow the reclusive stallion to feel somewhat involved in their conversations, and lives.  The sort of fellow to prefer his own company and the silent, introspective web of thought that being alone often led to, Dragomir found that he did not mind being outside of their niches, still; he was, after all, not the usual sort, always studying this creation or that phenomenon, and, more of then than not, he found that what he enjoyed discussing often made those he talked to glaze over with boredom, at the very least.

It was better to simply study this metal, for now, and occasionally his newly given stone abilities.  He also had Letha to watch over when Ranjiri was busy, and Ranjiri herself to tend to, and care for, not to mention whatever tasks were sure to arrive soon with his Masonry skills.  However, being familiar with the Godly creation magic in ways he was not familiar with his own, he was far more keen on studying that which he did not understand, especially with many, almost promised, opportunities to work with the Earth's gift on behalf of the herd.

If only he could figure out anything more than this!  He thinks with a frustrated snort.
 
[ OOC:  Behold Dragomir, staring at things again.  :’D Open to anyone! ]


Dragomir
I hope tomorrow you find better things.