maybe we exist to bleed
When Noah steps forward and grabs the table and shakes it, the ricketiness of the item causes him to twitch, almost like a flinch that he tries to recover from quickly before he gnaws on his lip. His gaze lifts toward Rusty, fighting against the souring and bittering anxiety that burns in his gut at the fact that Noah is looking at him now, has promoted the idea that the young crafter would do a good job – and he absolutely would. He’d been crafting for his entire life, it seemed like.
When Rusty offers a grumble and the rest of the items on his list are gathered, Glas chews on his lip and focuses on Noah briefly at the mention of the flute – how quietly the other man says it. So, as equally quiet, Glas shakes his head no. “N-No. I just… Want to make something other than furniture.” Something else that might bring people some joy, something that other people could use if they so wanted to.
Perhaps he might have some luck with it too? It was hard to say if he didn’t try for it, at least. A risk had to be taken at some point.
When Rusty offers a grumble and the rest of the items on his list are gathered, Glas chews on his lip and focuses on Noah briefly at the mention of the flute – how quietly the other man says it. So, as equally quiet, Glas shakes his head no. “N-No. I just… Want to make something other than furniture.” Something else that might bring people some joy, something that other people could use if they so wanted to.
Perhaps he might have some luck with it too? It was hard to say if he didn’t try for it, at least. A risk had to be taken at some point.
maybe we exist to burn
GLAS
