POTS

Pots. People needed pots. Not only did people need pots, sometimes Star felt like doing something with her paws. It was therapeutic and she quite enjoyed the process. Having brought some supplies with her to this barren landscape, the Dunamis fae was ready to get to work. She chose a piece of land that seemed somewhat sturdy, then settled down to digging. She dug a hole in the side of one hardened hill, using a stick to create a little chimney. She then lined the hole with wood and started a fire.

In a land where the hills churned up deeper swaths of earth, it was easy to find clay which would be good for pots. The striped fae began to move between the hills, cyan eyes on the lookout for veins of clay. The woman's tasmanian devil gave a little snarl to alert her that someone else was nearby and Star stopped, turning her attention to the one approaching.

"Starchild Dunamis"