There's an art to subtlety that escapes Iskra, which is perhaps no surprise given his job is whacking very large objects with very sharp objects until they fall. There's more to it than that, but his work leaves a mark—not shaped carefully, but carved with brute force and timeless tools. So when she backs up a bit, he doesn’t notice the space she puts between them, or the cause. "Alright then, I'll consider it an advance for some time I'm sure I'll owe you." He doesn’t know what he’ll owe her yet, but odds were good there’d be something.
He stands straight at her question, his movement to the door answer enough, "yes, let's!"
He locks up behind them, and together they set off toward the hot springs. Goose rejoins them with a new prize in his mouth—an unremarkable stick he guards like treasure. He swings it dangerously close to their knees with each proud head turn, but refuses to let either of them touch it. As they walk, he glances over with a sideways smile. “So, what do you want?” He falters next to her for a step or two, his attempt to wrestle the stick from the damn dog's mouth falling short. Goose shoots back a muffled woo-woo in triumph.
Iskra waves him off with an eye-roll. "It could be anything, as long as I know it...or you draw it." Otherwise, he’d probably just make a little wooden book—not the only thing she likes, just the one he’s sure of.
He stands straight at her question, his movement to the door answer enough, "yes, let's!"
He locks up behind them, and together they set off toward the hot springs. Goose rejoins them with a new prize in his mouth—an unremarkable stick he guards like treasure. He swings it dangerously close to their knees with each proud head turn, but refuses to let either of them touch it. As they walk, he glances over with a sideways smile. “So, what do you want?” He falters next to her for a step or two, his attempt to wrestle the stick from the damn dog's mouth falling short. Goose shoots back a muffled woo-woo in triumph.
Iskra waves him off with an eye-roll. "It could be anything, as long as I know it...or you draw it." Otherwise, he’d probably just make a little wooden book—not the only thing she likes, just the one he’s sure of.
Iskra
