punk flophouse

His brother's golden features lit up with a warm expression as he drew closer, and the larger boy mirrored it. Thick tail thumped against the terra as Balthier settled down within arm's reach. "I was just coming back from a run. Wanted to rest a little bit." his brother answer his question readily as he reclined on the ground, to which Solo offered a small nod of acknowledgement. That made sense, Balthier was always out and about doing things. He could see the two toned gaze drifting between the materials and his face, more in his peripheral vision than anything. He was trying his best to keep most of his attention on the work in front of him. "Are you making something?" Balthier asked, and the alabaster yearling nodded yet again.

"I'm gonna try and make a knife for dad, I hope he'll like it." he replied, narrowing his gaze at the sharpened edge of the fang. Deepening the serrations might be beyond his skill for now, but wasn't entirely off the table in the event he ever wanted to sharpen it again or improve it in the future. Flipping the tooth onto its other side, he started the process of sharpening over again. He made sure to maintain the consistency his strokes across the whetstone as best he could, and keep the pressure only on the upstroke. "Dunno what to do with the other tooth though, maybe one for me? What do you think?" the question was accompanied by a lifting of swirling mercury optics to fix on his brother's face for a moment, a pensive pinch to his brows. A bit of constructive criticism or advice was always appreciated, especially from someone he loved and respected as much as Balthier.

"Speech" thoughts "others"