“Sorry if I frightened ye lass, wasn’t my intent I assure ye,” he offered, sheepishly, feeling guilty that he had startled her when she’d been so studiously watching over her craft.  Wool, as it turns out, that she had managed to turn purple.  Fancy that! There were no purple sheep running around so this was one way to change colors.  Calder had had a friend once who had inadvertently slept in a blackberry patch just before his name day and managed to turn his arse quite a lovely shade of purple. That had been quite the sight when he had presented himself before the river with the others. It’s only then that Calder catches sight of the other that had joined them – the very man Eldala had named as the Basin’s master crafter.  However, Calder would be the first to admit that Johnny was not quite what he had in mind. He’s not entirely sure his mind was capable of conjuring up a creature quite like Johnny.  The big grey stallion managed to maintain his manners even through his surprise. 

“It’s nice to meet ye both,” Calder offered, with the dip of his head.  Both Eldala and the curious little fellow called Johnny stood a great deal smaller than he.  However, what Calder was having difficulty making sense of was Johnny himself.  He smelled sweeter than even the sweetest fruit he’d ever come across.  The large stallion tried not to make a big deal of it, but it just didn’t make sense and he just couldn’t let it go.  Why did the wee man smell edible?  Calder peeled his eyes away from the delicious smelling stallion and studiously studied his front hooves for a moment before Eldala began explaining just what it was that she had created.  It was the perfect distraction for the succulent conundrum that now plagued the brute.   “That’s verra clever, Eldala.  I never would have thought sea snails would turn somethin’ that color,” Calder certainly was impressed at the little mare’s ability to turn the creepy crawlies on the beach into something useful. 

“If ye are lookin’ to try pink next – perhaps ye could use raspberries?  I dunno if those even grow anywhere near here, but we used to have all sorts of berries in the mountains where I grew up that might turn a wee bit of wool pink if ye had enough of them,” he offered the gold mare a smile, hoping that maybe he could be helpful though he knew nothing of dying wool.  He then turned his blue eyes back to the perplexing little stallion. “What can ye make with something like this?” he asked, nodding to the colored wool, genuinely curious as to what the fragrant man was capable of.