Black dust in orbit

The giant mountain wolf was taking the time to make a few adjustments to their kiln at the moment. Their workshop was tucked away in a secondary chamber of the small cavern, where wind or snow would be less likely to affect the room's overall temperatures or damage any in-progress crafts. While the embers had burned down to cinders overnight, the temperature of the surroundings stone and clay had reached a low point, safe enough to touch without getting burnt. Wrist deep in a slurry of thick clay, they were slowly incorporating melted snow until it reached a consistency that they were happy with. It needed to be thick enough to hold its shape after being slathered against cracks and crevices in the structure, but thin enough to be malleable.

When a familiar voice called out from the main chamber of their den site, the giant grunted quietly. It took a moment to reorganize their thoughts into the variety that could be formed into words, and then they called out "Back here, Bis!" in a booming voice that echoed from the stone walls and out into their living quarters. "Repairing some cracks in the kiln, can't get up right now!" they added, the rumbling baritones of their voice laced with a mirthful, laughing lilt. Heavy skull tipped back and over one shoulder, thick neck craning to fix those striking gunmetal eyes on the entrance to the workshop where Bismuth ought to be poking his head through in a moment or two.