above the surface it seems quiet and calm

She wasn't moving on from the spot, and for that... truthfully, Viðarr was grateful. He wouldn't need to be alone. Though the company was that of a stranger, it didn't matter. None of that mattered. He wasn't alone. "Come, sit," he agrees, the smile not fading from his face. It's not too overwhelming, something he's conscious of-- wouldn't want to come off disingenuous or creepy. No, the shadow does his best to convey warmth, to bring comfort. He was as he would always be, after all.

"What are you making?" The question was conversational, curious. Though he was a man of few words, he'd let the curiosity get the best of him. Her sewing was more intricate than anything his clumsy paws could come up with, and it was interesting to watch. Satisfied with the water boiling, Viðarr removed the vessel from the heat and added one of his damaged bracers. With a stick, he pushed it down until it was all the way under. The leather itself was thick and dense, and it would take some time before the garment was fully soaked. Still, it seemed that he had nothing but time this evening.

"Ah, just time. Where the little points live has stretched," Viðarr indicated the bracer that wasn't currently soaking, showing the little grey wolf where each of the jet points was situated. Some were worse than others, but the leather settings had become worn over time. "I will shrink the leather, and add more adhesive if it needs," his plan was... well, it was likely functional. Really, the shadow didn't want to have to make new ones from scratch. Maybe he was a bit attached to this pair, and maybe it was more than a little bit of a headache to make a new pair from scratch. Something like that. He returned to the fire, stirring the vessel with the bracer inside once more. It would need to be fully saturated if this was to work.

"Viðarr"