Jigano blew a soft puff of chilly air teasingly over Tarasha's hair at the thanks, looking pleased with himself. He was even more pleased as he watched the Fae's skilled handiwork taking shape, the dragon emerging from the woven grasses as if by magic, and he crooned his approval and how impressed he was as he set his jaw on the ground to better see the basket from all angles while Tarasha held it up. It was, indeed, a work of art, and one he would treasure - for all that his 'hoard' was mostly books rather than gems or jewels.
He remained there, watching with growing excitement as it all came together, but he raised his head to let out an oddly musical trill of reassurance that yes, he liked it very much indeed! The mention of sticks had him tilting his head curiously, but Tarasha explained and his eyes widened in understanding. Indeed, if he tried to carry the basket in his claws now he might puncture the beautiful weaving of it. He rose with a snort and began pacing the edge of the clearing, seeking what his friend had asked for. Young sticks, green and supple... not the easiest things to find in Longheat, but he had developed a better sense for plants since gaining his earth magic and he sharpened his gaze as he prowled, bypassing several potential plants that looked too dry or thick.
In the end it was a young sapling that provided what they sought, not willow in this dry forest but dogwood, stripped of slender young branches by delicate claws (though the first few were a bit mangled in the process). He managed to procure three in good shape, and he carried them gently back to the artist, depositing them at the edge of Tarasha's reach as he settled back down to watch the final touches with eager blue eyes.
He remained there, watching with growing excitement as it all came together, but he raised his head to let out an oddly musical trill of reassurance that yes, he liked it very much indeed! The mention of sticks had him tilting his head curiously, but Tarasha explained and his eyes widened in understanding. Indeed, if he tried to carry the basket in his claws now he might puncture the beautiful weaving of it. He rose with a snort and began pacing the edge of the clearing, seeking what his friend had asked for. Young sticks, green and supple... not the easiest things to find in Longheat, but he had developed a better sense for plants since gaining his earth magic and he sharpened his gaze as he prowled, bypassing several potential plants that looked too dry or thick.
In the end it was a young sapling that provided what they sought, not willow in this dry forest but dogwood, stripped of slender young branches by delicate claws (though the first few were a bit mangled in the process). He managed to procure three in good shape, and he carried them gently back to the artist, depositing them at the edge of Tarasha's reach as he settled back down to watch the final touches with eager blue eyes.
