Their weekend was winding down but they had one more project. A quill and ink. Skælingr didn't really know what he'd do with it but the challenge was intriguing and he just couldn't pass it up. The ink would be his job. He had a good fire going and while it burned he hunted around the weeping woods with a small sack gathering walnuts. He didn't want any of the green ones what he wanted were the dark, old ones that had fallen on the ground. He filled his bag and trotted back to the fire. Once there he took a ceramic bowl and holding onto it he scooped up some water from a nearby stream. Skælingr then added the walnuts to the water and stirred them. He then set the bowl next to the fire so that he could get it to boil. It would probably need to boil for several hours so his next task was to make sure he had enough wood to sustain the fire. "Speech"

Wyndelin was in charge of making quills for the ink. He had a few good turkey feathers with him. Settling down he pulled one of the feathers over to him and began stripping the feather part from the shaft near the base of the feather. He repeated this step with another feather. Once that was done he poured some water into one of his ceramic bowls and added the feather to it tip down so they could soak. Hopefully in doing so it would be easier to cut and shape the tip of the feather without it cracking in ways he didn't want. He glanced over at Skælingr to see how the other man was doing. It looked like he had a good process going which was good. The quill would be pretty useless without ink to put in it. "Talk"

When the fire died down Skælingr just let it go after the walnuts had boiled for a good hour or so. He planned to experiment at different levels of boiling to see how it affected the color of the ink. Presumably the longer it cooked the darker it would be. Once the mixture had cooled Skælingr used his yucca basket to drain the water into another ceramic bowl and he tossed out the walnuts. Of course now his basket was stained but the poor thing was getting pretty beat up. He'd likely need to replace it in the future. Skælingr then worked to start up another fire. Once it was going well he scooted the ceramic bowl near the fire to get the inky mixture boiling again. He wanted to get rid of some of the water to concentrate the color. "Speech"

Wyndelin stretched out for a moment then turned his attention back to the feathers. Taking one of the feathers he laid it down on the wooden bark plate he'd made for a work surface. This was the tricky part. He could use his teeth but they weren't the best tool for fine cuts. Wyndelin picked up a sharpened piece of flint. Holding the feather down with one paw he started making cuts in the feather so that it had a tapered point. He pulled back a few times to examine his work, carefully shaping until he had the same he desired. He then pulled out the other feather and repeated the process. "Boy, I hope this works out ok." But he supposed mistakes were just part of the process. If they screwed this up they could always try again. It wasn't like it was do or die. "Talk"

Skælingr checked on the boiling ink, pleased at the rich dark color it was producing. He took a stick and gently dipped it in the mixture to test it. Lifting it up he eyed the mixture then nodded to himself thoughtfully. Yes, this looked good. Now to get the bowl away from the fire. Taking a deer antler he carefully scooted it under the ceramic bowl and then dragged it away from the fire to cool. Once it cooled he needed to add it to something. He dug around in one of the deer hide bundles on travois until he found a little glass jar with a glass topper. Carefully he plucked the top off to open it and then poured the ink in until it was full. He put the stopper back in place then dumped the excess ink. He hoped the color would be good. It certainly looked decent. "Speech"

The quills might work ok but to make sure the ink was channeled down to the point Wyndelin needed to get a good crack in the middle. He turned the feather on its side and held it with one paw. With the other he gently began to press down on the side of the feathers tip. He kept his face near the feather and watched. If he screwed up applying the pressure he could get a crack in the wrong place and the whole thing would have to be discarded. Well not completely discarded, he could always work it into another project but it would be a real shame. Wyndelin's ears twitched at the sound of a crack and he grinned. The crack was perfectly in line with the tip. One quill pen ready to go! He picked up the second and cracked that one as well. "Talk"