Tembovu

A petite, graceful, yet hesitant mare appears from the trees as he muses over his predicament. He chuckles as she glances at herself, as if to compare her small stature to his gargantuan one. This was a reaction which he did not often get to his size, though he always found it amusing. He responded to her somewhat frightened smile with his own, easy lopsided one, “Not quite alone.” he winks, “I am Tembovu. I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you yet, pretty lady?” His deep, booming voice carries easily over the distance still between them.

He returns his gaze to the cart and small harness as she airs her questions and concerns of fit. “Well, as a newly appointed Glazier, I’ve decided to test these new rank powers and attempt to clean up the glass at our borders,” he sighs as he turns his head towards her. It’s going to be quite the task, indeed. He grins at her explanation of the cart, valuing her enthusiasm to help. He indeed knew the purpose of a pull cart- he had pulled a few supply carts for legions in his old home. Though he kept this to himself and nodded as she spoke, humming in agreement at her remark of the harness not fitting him.

He swings his head as yet another woman approaches him and his tasks. Deep blue eyes take in the black and white pegasus, appreciating her wings. Though he, himself, would be far too heavy for any set of wings to raise into flight, he always had wondered what the sensation felt like. He snorts in laughter once more at her words, “Indeed, I think most things are crafted for beasts smaller than I,” he agrees with her. “I am Tembovu, and I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting you, either,” he again introduces himself.

He swings his eyes back to the first painted mare as the winged mentions that it would fit her. He shifts uneasily, not used to allowing another- especially a smaller mare- to take on grunt work. He was brawny. He was used to heavy lifting. “Perhaps you could pull it to the wall? I could break the glass and we can load it, then I think I could manage to pull it… somewhere…” Indeed, he hadn’t gotten much further in his plan to clean up the wall.

Then he shakes his massive head, loosely spiraled horn slicing the air, “I’m getting ahead of myself, would you even care to assist me?”

Tembovu

“A Moon Doctor? You are quite the useful person to know, eh?” He chuckled, speaking half in jest and half in seriousness- and committing the mare to memory. Looking down at the helpful, lovely little lady, he could not help a grin cross his face. He like this little mare. Nodding to himself, he took great strides through the dusting of snow, lifting the harness with his giant head, and dragging it to the rump of Anzanie.

“Excuse our reach, Anzanie,” he gave her a wink, his good nature and easy demeanor mitigating the potential awkwardness of such personal touches as they began to strap in the little painted mare. He motioned for Alysanne to assist, “I think you’re more familiar with this particular harness,” he nodded, though the glass buckles seemed to listening to his very thoughts as they began to tighten. Perks of being Glazier? A few large strides brought him to the cart, and pushed it up behind the harnessed mare- letting Alysanne attach it.

“Just beyond those trees was a large area of glass. Alysanne, do you know of a place to stockpile it? I thought perhaps behind the glass dragon…” he trailed off his question, starting to move towards the broken glass wall. He shortened his normally giant strides so that he might assist Anzanie, should she need it, “You’re alright?” he asked, ensuring that the petite paint was not struggling with the cart.

Tembovu

“I’m sure my size makes up for yours, Anzanie,” he calls good-naturedly over his shoulder as he walks off. He arrives to the wall. Or lack thereof a wall. He had chosen an area of rather large chunks of glass. For the time being, he had opted to leave the larger expanses of intact wall standing. He would just clear the chunks of fallen glass between the sporadic glass stretches. He planned on filling in the stretches with glass spikes later— and then attack the remaining parts of still standing wall. That way the borders were never fully open.

Though, despite his well thought out plan, he still uncertainly eyes the large chunks of razor sharp glass. He knew his had rank magic, but he had only managed to melt glass. He wanted to save these large pieces for reusing for spikes. He eyes the smaller shards- those would be fine for melting. Though the larger pieces— the ones ranging from half as large as him to twice his size— those would be difficult.

Calmly approaching a large chunk, he glances once over his shoulder— partly hoping his audience wouldn’t be watching his first attempt. A quick, lopsided smile to the mares is all he spares, before turning to glare at the icy glass. He’s chosen a monster of a piece, easily double his massive size. Go big or go home, right?

Rearing and reaching for the cold fire that forever burned in the depths of his chest, he crashed his hooves against the smooth surface. A resounding, deafening gong-like sound reverberated over the dusting of snow. At first, nothing seemed to happen…

But then a fine cobwebbing of cracks splinter the surface, a fine mist escaping from them. And the piece of glass split neatly into four, manageable spike-shaped pieces. A grin split the elephant’s face. Success!

He repeats the process on a smaller hunk of glass. Again, it breaks in to manageable, spike-shaped pieces. He nods to them, glancing at the mares, “I’ll break a few more down while you ladies load the cart. Just the spikes, I think. I’ll see if I can get rid of the smaller pieces…” His voice trails off as he approaches a stretch of snow that is peppered with small glass razors.

Hesitantly he takes a step onto the minefield. Fine mist gathers around his gargantuan hoof as it contacts the sharp fragments. The larger pieces promptly melt to (frigid) water beneath his feet, while the smaller slivers dissipate to mist and float away. Trudging back and forth a few times, he quickly realizes that cleaning up the small fragments will be a never-ending project. For only the pieces that contact his hooves dissolve. That will be a task to pass time on another day.

He snorts, shakes his mane, and returns his attention back to the large pieces and the mares, “Perhaps we’ll just focus on the large chunks, for now.” He ruefully grins at the mares, continuing to break glass. Despite having Glazier magic, it still was back-breaking work. A sheen of sweat darkened his silver buckskin hide to a deep gold. Steam rose from him in the cool weather, as he alternated between smashing glass and loading the cart.

When the cart was nearly toppling from crystal spears, he reassessed the harness. “We can push while you pull, Anzanie?” Though his voice ends in a question, he already moves to behind the cart to push it towards the clearing with the glass dragon.

Tembovu

As he stepped behind the cart alongside Alysanne, he was surprised by how heavy the glass was. This was so much denser than any other glass he had experiences before. “Ready?” A flash of admiration for the little painted mare in the hardness passes through him, before he digs his haunches into the earth and heaves against the cart.

His already sweaty skin plumes in steam in the crisp weather. Pushing the cart causes more rivulets of sweat to bead along his broad back— though it is certainly less effort than physically and magically breaking apart the glass.

They arrive in the clearing (which was mercifully close— magically closer than the Glazier recalled). He eyes the dragon, whose amethyst eyes seemed to be interestedly watching the, before glancing around the treeless grass. What would be the best place to stockpile all this glass? There was bound to be so much of it by the end of the day and their exertions.

Tired blue gaze lands on the end of the trees. That would be a good place— out of the way, yet reachable for… Well, he wasn’t certain yet. But the glass hexagonal columns would be available for any future project that he, or any other crafter, would have in mind.

So he motioned towards the trees with a grunt and a sweep of his horn, using his vast shoulder to help move the heavy load. Glancing at the massive load, he contemplated a quicker and easier way to unload the cart— they needed to conserve their strength and time.

“I think, if just unhook the harness from the cart, that we can dump the glass and make it a bit easier on ourselves,” his low voice offered the solution. Two swift, long strides brought him alongside Anzanie, and his thick muzzle made quick work of unhooking the harness from the cart. At least they wouldn't have to unharness her, entirely— that, at least, saved some minutes. Minutes that would add up in the many trips they would take throughout the day.

The cart’s backend smashed against the ground, glass columns sliding out haphazardly between the trees. The elephant snorted, narrowing his eyes at the errant glass, which sheepishly aligned itself neatly on the grass. Much better.

Turning his eyes to the two mares, he smiled wryly, “Ready for round two?” This was going to be a long day. He looked to Alysanne, for she could get Anzanie hooked back to the cart, while he walked ahead to start breaking the glass.

—————————

The sun was setting on the Edge. It had been a productive day, but the elephant was parched, exhausted, and sore. Wielding this new magic had taken a toll on his mind, for it was alien and cold. The constant rearing and striking of his hooves left them bruised, and his forelimbs and back burned from the overuse.

He turned his eyes from the last pile of glass as it slid from the cart and faced his two comrades. If he was this exhausted, he was certain the mares would be as well. “Thank goodness for that,” his voice was quiet with tiredness as the glass settled in the earth. “Thank you, Alysanne, Anzanie, for your help today. I’m not sure that I would have finished on my own,” he smiled lopsidedly at the beautiful mares. He sighed, a tired but satisfied sigh that condensed in the cooling evening Frostfall. One job accomplished.