She felt so stupid. Pouring her heart out almost entirely to a man, he rejected her. She felt confused, angry, and mostly annoyed at herself. Why did she do it? At least she didn't say she'd wait for him - gods, she'd seem so desperate! Wren more or less said she wouldn't wait around for him to make up his mind, continuing to move on and avoid the issues that plagued her. Why did she do that too? It seemed cruel to say that to a friend. Even if he confused the hell out of her. "Aha...!" she said, voice muffled as she dove behind a large rock. Pulling out a piece of a blade, curved and steel, she placed it on the earth. Maybe someone in Armada would help her mold it, but until then she could at least shape it a bit. Taking a piece of cloth from the satchel she wore, she began to wipe it clean. Seemed like time had been lost here. She tried to sand it with the rough side of the cloth, making it shine. She paused to think. Wren frowned, wondering if this was all the mines had to offer. Movement from the corner of her eye caused the woman to start, sharply turning with a prickled neck. "Who..." Is there? "she speaks" 1/3 - crafted equipment (sword)

The newly made Heir was fit to burst to tell someone. He felt like he was walking on air, even if his father had made it clear that he still felt the young wolf had a lot to learn. The first scent he caught was Wren’s, though it led out of pack lands.

He was quick to follow after his friend, until he reached the entrance to the mines. He walked cautiously a couple steps, wondering if he would get lost in the warren down here. “Wren?” he called out at the same time that she said ‘who’ and he turned to find her with a grin. Padding more happily into the mines now. “What have you got there?” he asked, seating himself comfortably beside his friend.


"Speech"

"Piece of steel." Basilisk walked and sat next to her, inquiring about the sword. She pushed it into the dim light, revealing the curved blade to him. She bent down to fasten a guard onto the square end, away from the pointy one. She'd have to dent it a bit in the middle to balance, but she could do that later. "I gotta find a grip, or go back to Armada" she mused "to find one there. Think the pack'll have sword parts?" The guard was made of another piece of steel she had found. It'd have to be shaped too, but it was long and flat "I'm trying to make a sword for myself" she adds "yanno, when I become alpha... Gotta defend the place." Wren paused. "Not alpha of Armada" she said quickly "alpha of my own pack." "she speaks" 2/3 - crafted equipment (sword)

“Wicked” He said approvingly as he admired the piece of steel she had shown him. “Are you trying to make it into a sword? If you ever want sword fighting lessons, Artorias would be the wolf to talk to” He said, thinking of his blade-wielding uncle with a grin. Basilisk Still wanted some sword fighting lessons himself.

“Maybe. Ruga might know” he said. The Armada didn’t really wield swords, but perhaps Ruga could make something for her. She continued to speak, and he realised what she was saying with a momentary delay. “Alpha! Since when?” he said, eyeing her with admiration and accusation.


"Speech"

Ah, the name of Sirius's son in law. She nodded to her friend. "Yep, I gotta have some type of weapon" Daggers would be 'wicked' but she realized she couldn't really hold it great. Practicing earlier, she had gotten used to a longer blade "I have some bracers but those are for defense" Ruga's name came up, and Wren realized she didn't know much about him "why?" she asked, curious "is he a crafter?" She chuckled as she straightened the guard of the sword, making it parallel to the sword's blade. She had tiny paws compared to Basilisk, so the task was easier for her. "It'll have to be put together properly" she mused, avoiding the lad's question for a second "so I'll need a forge" frowning momentarily, she turned her attention to him "since mid-winter." Had it really been that long already? She dwelled on the moment for a second or two. The sword was far from ready, but she had the basics down. The shape was good, it shined and didn't rust. Good. "Armada claimed the Cove, but your grandfather told me... I can house wolves from my pack there until I get it up and running" Wren began to explain "I'm so tired of following others, letting them decide my fate. I want my own life" She reached out to touch a dirty paw to his black shoulder "but we'll be allies, Armada and my pack. We'd be friends, still, won't we?" After Mercury's wishy-washy answer, Wren wasn't sure what to expect. "she speaks" 3/3 - crafted equipment (sword)