// I've been trying to fix my pride //
Iskra traded his normal axe for a pickaxe since he'd be playing miner for the day instead of logger. He adjusted the pack on his shoulder that had some general supplies and room to put the ore he was planning on carting back. The pickaxe he held swung freely as he carved a path down slopes and rocks that threatened treachery with complacency. Goose, steadfast as ever, weaved a pattern alongside him, paws much better adept at the work, though the hound was still cautious with placing them on anything cutting. His tongue lolled freely with a near-constant pant, the ambient heat not being his preference, but then neither was staying home while Iskra went off.
"Know anything about mining?" he asked the dog, who stilled his panting long enough to partially close his mouth and look back at Iskra expectantly before resuming. "Was that a yes?" Iskra asked with a quirk of his lips, shaking his head at the dog.
"Well I don't," he continued, a long sigh breaking free. He paused on a flatter portion of ground, glancing around at the architecture of ruin, 'brow pinching in thought. Where to start? It was all rock, but was it all good rock? He rather thought he'd like something pretty to make after his mother.
"Know anything about mining?" he asked the dog, who stilled his panting long enough to partially close his mouth and look back at Iskra expectantly before resuming. "Was that a yes?" Iskra asked with a quirk of his lips, shaking his head at the dog.
"Well I don't," he continued, a long sigh breaking free. He paused on a flatter portion of ground, glancing around at the architecture of ruin, 'brow pinching in thought. Where to start? It was all rock, but was it all good rock? He rather thought he'd like something pretty to make after his mother.
Iskra
// But that shit's broken //
