weave a dream

Lorikeet had always had a weakness for pretty things. This harsh, barren territory that her Alpha had chosen was a little bland for her taste. So perhaps it was no wonder that she could collect a few things, and find a sunny rock to lie in. Spice draped lazily at her side as the wolf’s clever claws worked.

With colourful bits of ribbon, she was threading them into a shape that would eventually be a dream catcher. Something bright and tasteful to liven up the place a little. She might stick it in her den, or, if she could get away with it, perhaps she would place it somewhere the viking lord would see it. She couldn’t help but grin at the idea. Stretching out a little more as she worked.

Ooc: Int, craft an item 1/3

"Speech"