Gettin' Crafty with it

Artisan had slunk away from the blob of sleeping pirates in the cool of twilight, still feeling slightly out of place in this new 'family' of his. Of course, the group was made up of old family too in Hya and Hype but still he could not shake the feeling of this 'band' from his freedom-loving shoulders. While Sparrow was not so harsh a Pirate King as to disallow him the freedom to move, to wander, to roam - in fact, she seemed to encourage her pirates out into the world - Artisan still felt he should want to remain with her and the others, and that a part of him was broken for seeking some form of privacy.

His beads had always been so precious to him, he doubted Sparrow or that crazy-eyed Pyralis would understand. The promise of treasure pulled him in only as he imagined what new crafting he could do with said treasures, or what new colors he could learn to utilize. The wolves of Boreas were colorful beyond belief, he needed to find ways to capture those hues accurately enough to wear proud around his wrists.

The newly christened pirate plopped himself beneath a large tree in the center of the oasis. Colors here were vibrant, and though he knew he'd struggle to capture properly how Sparrow's multi-toned pelt was to the eye, he knew he'd have to try and mark this new friendship.

He wandered around the tree in circles, and eventually found a scrap of bark that seemed to match her base color correctly. He sunk his teeth and a claw into the large crack and yanked, feeling it splinter and eventually give way to his strength. Carefully he set the bark down at the base of the tree, and set off to pace once more in hopes another shade of brown would tempt his eye. Sand! Dusty, dull tones, Artisan knew it would work to match the underbelly of his Pirate King. The wolf began to dig, displacing some of the color-washed sand close beside his bark and tools, and gasped as something harder was felt beneath his claws. Dirt, perhaps? Though the brown of dirt was too cold for the colors he needed - already his bark and sand was devoid of the red tones Sparrow wore.

He grabbed a pawful of sand and chucked it halfhazardly into his bowl, which already had a thin layer of clean water resting along the bottom. Artisan had no troubles getting his paws dirty and so he worked the sand amidst the liquid, coaxing it into a texture that was more sloppy and thick. Still he felt the absence of the red, though Artisan was hesitant to bleed himself in fear that the crimson would shine too bright through the mixture.

The bark was next and he snapped off a small piece, crunching it and squishing it into the mixture the best he could. The water would soak into the wood, he'd hoped, and soften it into something more malleable that he could shape. Nothing was coming out right at all, and Artisan doubted his talents for the very first time. Never before had he struggled so much in making his beads, and he never settled for less then perfection in his wearables. The darkness did not help, and very soon the twilight would deepen into night and the colors would be even harder to distinguish. He sighed, twirling his mixture with a claw.

Perhaps it was dirt he needed after all, Artisan thought bitterly. Dirt, a bit of blood, and he could hope to pull out the reddish tones. Back to his hole once more Artisan dug again, displacing the sand for a second time and beginning to work on the dirt beneath. The hardness against his paws grew harder yet, and he found he was struggling to tear it out. It flaked off his paws in clumps as he dug, and it took him embarassingly too long to realize this was not normal dirt he dug. Clay! The word felt so foreign, it'd been so long since he worked the harder material between his paws. He squinted down at it, hoping he wasn't imagining the red tones within the dirt-like terrain.

That was that, then. Artisan grasped a large chunk of the clay and added it to his mixture, hoping it could mingle with the bark and the sand to give off the swirling, reddish-brown tones he saw in his Pirate King's coat. Last to be added was the blue of her eyes, but Artisan came prepared with the feather of a bird he'd found discarded days prior.

The mixture eventually came together and hardened in his paws, and Artisan knew there was still work to be done to ensure it's perfection. With a careful eye he packed the mixture together into a hard lump, and delicately began to carve away at it with one claw until it was round and even. Lastly he took a smooth stick, puncturing it through the center of the clay to carve away a tunnel. Eventually a string would be passed through the hole so he could wear it around his ankle, but for now his creation needed to sit, harden and dry. If he'd had a fire it would have been faster, but everytime Art found a wolf who knew how to make one, he'd get too.. distracted with them to remember to ask for a lesson. Oh well, perhaps Sparrow knew, or one of the other pirates.

Artisan continued to work at the hardening bead until the twilight faded into night and his paws grew too cold to maneuver so delicately. Only then did he stop, admire his trophy, and tuck it carefully within his borrowed pouch. His bowls and things took longer to pack up - and he had to dump out and clean off the remainder of his bark and sand and clay mixture - but eventually he'd left the space almost as it was when he arrived. it was then that he'd head back towards his Pirate Band, hoping to find someone who knew something about fire.

Word Count: 1021