above the surface it seems quiet and calm

Aryn had bared her soul to the kindly looking statue in Auster and had made quick work of returning to Boreas so she would not be labeled a runaway by Habari's leadership. She felt somehow emptier without her rock, even though the thing was simply a stone with no special qualities or meaning. It had been a stepping stone to improving her skill of fighting, she'd bashed one or two wolves on the head with it, and now it was gone and time to find a replacement. Aryn tried to be a realist about it all, but still there was that tiny empty spot in her chest where her rock weapon had once fit.

The stone steppe had been a free area for wolves of all kinds to roam with the festival fully in swing. Recluse couldn't even punish her for lingering here, not when she'd always been granted leave to attend parties and events. Aryn went in search of a quiet corner to do her new craft in, carrying with her a borrowed rucksack of leather, string, and replacement rocks. A weighed bracer, she'd decided, would be an appropriate replacement weapon but one that did not require her to re-learn her entire way of fighting.

So lost in her thought was she that Aryn nearly stepped over the busy man and might even have touched a toe upon his work, her ears slicking back and a heat coming to her cheek in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I should watch where I'm going." The Valentine woman murmured, taking a step back. "If I broke something, I can help you to fix it." She assured him softly.