I Don't Need A Chamber Pot

The wolf seemed to know what it was doing. Interesting. He didn't know canines could work clay. But, he supposed, that shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise to him. As he was learning, wolves were a very resourceful species. Those pup stealing bastards who'd held Motif captive had had quite the assortment of things in lands. The thought of the Ashen Armada made his nose twitch in worry and he delicately sniffed in the wolf's direction to make sure he wasn't one of those no good bastards.

He was relieved to find he could detect no trace of the scent on Skaelingr's person. Good.

Ah, so the dog had never seen a red panda before. That certainly wasn't the first time he'd heard that. The bulk of his species were disappointingly content to do nothing all of their lives. They never got out much. Armando placed a paw on his chest and said grandly, "I am a red panda. And my name is Armando." As for whether or not he lived here, Armando shook his head. "I'm just passing through."

"Pots, you said? Do you mind if I watch you work? I can't say I've ever seen someone without these," he held up his paws to show off his thumbs. "Work clay before." He pulled a coil of grass fibers out of his bag. One end was braided neatly but the other - the working end - was loose. To show what he would be doing Armando did a few twists of the fibers to bind them together. "I've got a little project of my own I can work on so I won't be any trouble."