Fish and Smiths [Tel and Ardyn Seasonal]

He watched quietly as the girl worked, making notes of his own, especially as she worked with the feather shaped blades. In the long run, the glue would likely not hold, but he wouldn’t mind helping her finalize the piece once she’d tried the bracers and seen how they worked in battle.


Time passed and he finally asked, “How are your lessons with my mother going? She mentioned you’d been distracted?”


Aurielle had been continuing the girl’s training in diplomacy and politics, as well as fighting and general history. The young Ard Rí wondered whether Tel would choose to remain on that path or if her ambitions would change as she aged and grew into herself. Especially once he transitioned the pack to his own layout.


He nodded to Lyr and the raven pushed off and winged to check the fish trap while Ardyn pulled a pot of oil from his pouch and a rabbit skin that had been dehaired and fleshed into a pliant, absorbent piece and began working oil into his armor plates, deciding that if she had anything to say she’d feel more comfortable doing so over a task without his full-blown attention on her.


Ardyn worked the oil into the leather, both sides, until it had soaked in, then switched to beeswax, a pot of it that had softened in the sun where he’d let it sit after his basket was done and set. Briskly, he wiped plentiful amounts of the wax onto the leather, letting it sit and absorb before buffing it into the leather. It would seal it against the weather and against drying stiff.


Lyr dropped back to the ground with a delighted croak, and Ardyn grinned. Clearly, by the raven’s step-stepping feet, the trap was a success. He rose, nodding to Tel in a 'just a moment' gesture and trotted to the basket. A large pair of fat salmon drifted dolefully in the basket, probably regretting their life choices, and he hauled the basket out of the water and onto dry land with a heave. The fish set to bashing against the confines of the basket and each other, until he extracted them and dispatched them with quick jabs of his sabers and carried them back to the crafting station, tail flaring in a pleased wag through the air as he dropped them nearby.

"Success!"

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think