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03-28-2014, 02:55 PM
She answered my question, and I nodded, still smiling and gazing upon the sculpture of something fragile in appearance--yet strong enough to stand the test of sun and time. When Elsa accepted my offer and started gently prying for work I replied, “Aye, there is much to be done.” First chore could be managed in a matter of heartbeats, for I knew that our lord was listening, “By the power of Earth, our patron God. I name thee Mason.” Words had power. Despite what others would believe. The pale woman would have received his touch the instant I’d spoken; if the stories proved true and eye witness accounts weren’t false. Though I’d been told that each encounter was uniquely different.
Once the ceremony was complete, I moved to make a request. One that would be born from a selfish desire and not for the immediate benefit of the herd, “Before we start a palaver over projects for this clan… If ye are willing, I’d ask for aid in a personal quest I’ve been sent on.” My right forehoof rose then clipped the ground gently, gold pooled from the center and spread many inches from where I’d just stamped. I summoned this pure honey from earth—urging each slender thread to spread up before our eyes. Gently and with careful practice, I fashioned a golden ball about the size of an orange. It spun round, smoothing out with each new thread that was added. Finally, I’d finished. With a contented sigh I carried my gaze to Elsa, “Would ye cover this in your ice?” Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
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