Frankly, Aggie felt embarrassed. It wasn't something she was familiar with. She had always thought of herself as cunning enough to get by and adaptable to boot. She had never shied away from innovation and change; anything that made her life easier was more than welcome. Yet since returning to this continent Aggie felt distinctly... behind. Wolves were progressing here, in ways she could never have seen coming. It was wondrous, it was exciting, it was.... frustrating? Because for the first time in her life Aggie felt uniquely apart from it all. Well. Nothing to do about that but change it, right? Ylva had suffered her gripes and complaints surprisingly well. Both of them were keenly aware of the skills they could be acquiring. Neither had the prior knowledge but they both had the drive, so they might as well get to it. Step one? Figure out a way to gather things and carry them along through their journeys. Neither Aggie nor Ylva were ready to settled down to one den for the rest of their days. So how could they possibly collect supplies and make them portable? A worthy challenge, if Aggie did say so herself. Padding along the banks of the gushing river, an idea had come to her. She had seen pottery before, not often of course, but often enough to know that it was possible. Aggie understood tangentially that to set clay one needed to have a source of heat. She might lack that, but would it really hurt to practice? She thought not. So, step one: Find clay. Step two: Make clay into... something. Preferably a pot, but she didn't want to set her sights too high. Step three: ...She had no idea. But eventually, step four would be profit, and the idea was optimistic enough that she was willing to go for it. It was a plan, ephemeral or not. It was a plan. So she continued, one paw after another. How hard could clay be to find, really? "Talk" "Listen" Think

Rhythm spent time in the rapids not only because of the great clay deposits, but also to visit her niece’s grave. She took a long few moments to silently convene with her. Her heart still hurt with the pain of loss, but she was here now to help uphold what Shaye built here. She sighed heavily as she picked up her silver marked body from the ground. With her arthritis laying on the bare ground for too long spelled discomfort for days.

SShe’d feel better once she got her paws to work anyway. The little sparrow Feather led her down the banks of the river, it was finally flowing again. Just in time for winter. She continued on to a favored clay pit, it was smaller and she didn’t take huge amounts from it. However this was some of the best clay she’d ever found to work with. If only it was more bountiful.

The bird and the wolf arrived at their destination and got to work, Rhythm feeling blindly around her as she started to scrape up a bit of the semi wet clay. Neither noticed the other wolf headed towards them.

Aggie spent a good long while scouting the banks. She found plenty of gravel beds, more reeds than she felt was strictly necessary, plenty of debris piles from previous floods that she had to either scramble over or divert around. It was beginning to look like she had picked a terrible spot to begin searching for clay. At long last the substrate seemed to be changing, becoming more fine, then rocky and smooth. Perfect! There had to be something around he- She stopped dead in her tracks. There before her was a beautiful expanse. Expanse being just a few feet along the edge of the water, but it was undoubtedly a bed of slick pale yellow clay. Except it was marred entirely by the presence of another wolf. Aggie sighed. She was by no means an unfriendly sort, and if she hadn't been so worried about failing her first attempt at sculpting in front of another wolf she might even have been elated. She watched as the smaller female began to gather some of the clay for herself, so surely this stranger knew what she was doing. But still. Aggie pressed on. She had worked too hard to find this place to go around and search for another. She'd just have to suck up her pride and deal. She was close enough by then to realize that this wolf was old, too. Like old, old. Like, do you need help finding your way back home, do you have any grandchildren to make sure you don't wander off old. The impression was further solidified the longer Aggie watched because, and while she didn't want to outright assume, the way the stranger searched around with her paws and snout... Was she blind? Spirits. Well. At least it seemed less likely that Aggie would be judged for shoddy craftsmanship. "'Scuze me," she called out, announcing herself at long last. "I don't mean to intrude. I was hoping to gather some clay here, but if you've laid claim to it I'll move along." It was more of a 'respect for your elders thing' than a 'I could tumble you into the water if I felt that strongly about it but I don't' thing. Not to mention if a blind wolf was making pottery how hard could it really be for Aggie to learn? Maybe this shewolf would be a good teacher, so long as she didn't read minds or anything. That would be... uh, awkward. "Talk" "Listen" Think

Rhythm was going about her business, collecting what clay she could at the day went on. Finally Feather whistled softly to announce the presence of another wolf. The old woman looked up curiously, eyes unseeing but silver marked ears perked in the stranger’s direction. The woman spoke up, seeking Rhythm’s attention politely. She seemed to have been searching for the same thing that the old woman was working on. Though the ancient Destruction wasn’t about to deny this woman a stake on her claim.

A grin found its way to the old woman’s features, ”No, of course not.” Rhythm assured her softly as she moved off just a bit. ”This is one of my favorite places to harvest.” Here and the hot springs. Though the actually veins were smaller than she would have liked there was still plenty and then some for what she needed.

Though she’d made room for the other woman Rhythm continued to gather up the slightly damp not quite mud not quite rock substance. She didn’t have the ability to carry much back with her, but a little at a time was all she needed. ”Are you a potter?” She added while making her little pile.

The elder seemed at the very first to have a pleasant disposition. She responded soft and graciously, moving aside to allow Aggie space of her own beside the clay. Aggie smiled, reminded herself that the woman was either blind or lacking some sight, then changed tactics. "Thank you," she replied sincerely. "This clay seems so smooth, it must be lovely to work with." Aggie hummed a bit to herself as she found a spot that suited her, in part because she was excited to have reached the first step of her master plan and in part to make sure the older female was able to keep track of where she went.   Aggie bent down to work as Ylva hopped off her shoulders, investigating the site herself. ”Are you a potter?” the stranger asked. Aggie let a small chuckle through her lips. "An aspiring one, perhaps. In a land full of tinkering wolves with all their magnificent bits and baubles, I suppose I'm just trying to keep up." Her words weren't bitter, she didn't begrudge the odd wolves she'd come across and their many advancements, but rather eager to make progress of her own. "Ah, and I'm being rude, aren't I? My name's Aggie. My companion here is Ylva, she assists me and keeps me in check." Aggie smiled over at Ylva, who chimed in, "It's a harrowing task, but I do my best. It's good to meet you both." Ylva gave a nod of recognition to the small bird that seemed to accompany the elder. Aggie turned back to her paws. She'd gathered a mound of the slick substance between her paws. It was not as waterlogged as what remained beneath the water's surface, but it was not quite dry either. Aggie stared at it, as if waiting for it to volunteer its secrets. She supposed it wouldn't be hard to fashion a crude bowl, if she could roll it into a sphere and carefully work at a depression in the center with her paws. If she was being honest, though, she was a bit worried about bumbling it. She didn't want to take more clay than was necessary from this source, especially if it was favored by others, so she was wary of somehow ruining what she had. Unfamiliar with whether or not clay was a forgiving medium, it seemed worth careful consideration. "Talk" "Listen" Think

Rhythm had every right to be a grumpy old lady, she’d been through a lot in her long life. Still, she had always preferred to be sweet and welcoming. It was in her nature. She rarely found an enemy, and flies with honey and vinegar and all that. The woman thanked her and moved in slightly as she went to gather her own bit of clay. Her question would not go unanswered, it seemed the younger woman was only just getting into pottery herself, and that fact easily reminded her of Poem and her still new efforts with the art.

The old woman had spent countless hours shaping earth when she had been a captive, it was a good way to get her mind off the atrocities committed against her. The hobby pulled her through more than one difficult day and even now she continued. She was helping to expand Abaven’s wealth, and to teach the young her craft. ”There are some incredibly innovative individuals aren’t there?” She commented softly as she gathered up enough clay for a decent sized piece.

”No, no offense taken at all.” She offered up the stranger a quick grin. ”My name is Rhythm Destruction, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintances.” She continued to work on the earth beneath her silver marked paws. ”Would you like a demonstration?”