// I've been trying to fix my pride //
Goose is always happy for ear scratches, and even leans into the motion, a low groan rumbling free as a back leg lifts up and kicks at air in tempo with the fingers working through fur. Sunjata found the spot.
"Don't ever call Ludo where it's cold," Iskra warns swiftly, like its gospel he's been tasked with spreading far and wide, to Ludo-worshippers or not. "It hates the cold, and is not above cursing you for it, even when there's a perfectly good blanket," Iskra mutters, eyes wide with the seriousness of the risk, and the haunting memory of it.
Iskra nods along with the idea of lily hunting, making a mental note to himself that he needs to head back either there or to the Greatwood soon to resume his hunt. He'd let Ludo's tasks keep him busy thus far, but with it almost done, he needs to get his hands dirty again with the search, the one way he can assist.
"Right, a vein," Iskra mumbles, glancing back towards the planes of rocks like now he's got something better to look for as Sunjata steps in closer. Iskra glances over at him, mimicking the touch of hand to stone, grimacing at the searing heat of it. "I figured something strong, like iron, but maybe something a touch pretty too. Something blue. Maybe crystals that get mixed with it?" He feels rather out of his depth, talking about mining, blacksmithing, weapons as a whole. He maybe should have asked Ludo a bit more about this.
At the roar of the distant dragon, Goose drops low, whining between his teeth as the heat of his land brushes his belly as he creeps to curl around Iskra's feet. Iskra's gaze is also skyward, wary with the pickaxe held a bit firmer in hand. "S'alright bud," he croons to the dog, patting the fluffy head reassuringly. "Might not have the time left to be picky," Iskra laughs nervously.
Absolutely malding at these fucking serendipities
"Don't ever call Ludo where it's cold," Iskra warns swiftly, like its gospel he's been tasked with spreading far and wide, to Ludo-worshippers or not. "It hates the cold, and is not above cursing you for it, even when there's a perfectly good blanket," Iskra mutters, eyes wide with the seriousness of the risk, and the haunting memory of it.
Iskra nods along with the idea of lily hunting, making a mental note to himself that he needs to head back either there or to the Greatwood soon to resume his hunt. He'd let Ludo's tasks keep him busy thus far, but with it almost done, he needs to get his hands dirty again with the search, the one way he can assist.
"Right, a vein," Iskra mumbles, glancing back towards the planes of rocks like now he's got something better to look for as Sunjata steps in closer. Iskra glances over at him, mimicking the touch of hand to stone, grimacing at the searing heat of it. "I figured something strong, like iron, but maybe something a touch pretty too. Something blue. Maybe crystals that get mixed with it?" He feels rather out of his depth, talking about mining, blacksmithing, weapons as a whole. He maybe should have asked Ludo a bit more about this.
At the roar of the distant dragon, Goose drops low, whining between his teeth as the heat of his land brushes his belly as he creeps to curl around Iskra's feet. Iskra's gaze is also skyward, wary with the pickaxe held a bit firmer in hand. "S'alright bud," he croons to the dog, patting the fluffy head reassuringly. "Might not have the time left to be picky," Iskra laughs nervously.
Absolutely malding at these fucking serendipities
Iskra
// But that shit's broken //
