the potter and clay

He returned her greeting with a polite nod and his name, hearing his voice loosened a bit of her tension. Eligos asked her reasoning for gathering the clay, an easy enough answer. ”My grandmother and I make pots, bottles, and bowls out of it.” She told him, but wasn’t sure if he’d even be familiar with any of those terms. Rhythm told the girl she’d learned how to make them and work clay from an enslaved ape. ”She’s a healer, so she keeps a lot of medicines and different concoctions in them. After they’ve dried up or been put to the fire.” Poem continued to explain, but she was also turning her attention back to the gathering.

With Allen’s help finagling the pelt Poem tried to dig up a heavy portion of the rich clay. It was no easy task removing the calf from its mother earth, but after struggling for a moment victory was hers. And she wasn’t sure she was going to go back for more. It was dense and heavy and she’d have enough trouble returning with this chunk. ”If I bring back a big chunk, we won’t have to spend so much time searching for clay, we can spend more working it than finding it.” She wouldn’t have to return for a long while, especially if they could use what she brought back on her body. Poem was even more covered now.