KORBIN
And my hands are not clean,
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
He shot her an unhappy look. Dark thoughts crowded in his mind - thoughts of shifting, of flying off never to return. Thoughts of chaos, destruction and violence that had no place in this house - but though they burned on the tongue, he didn't let them spill. Maybe it would be better if he did. Then she would know exactly what kind of place he was in, how bad it really was.
But then... she would know. And how could he be any strength and help to her if she felt she had to look after him, still? Wasn't that why she went to everyone for help except him? Why she turned to outlanders rather than her own brother? He couldn't make himself even less reliable than she already thought he was.
"I give a shit," he mumbled, returning his eyes on the work.
The hide was nearly free from hair now. It would need to be stretched and worked to keep it soft until it was drier, but soon it would be ready for whatever method of tanning she might have decided on. Woodbark, for a dark and sturdy leather? Ground grain and rocksalt, for a soft and supple leather, pretty but that wouldn't endure damp very well? Or perhaps she would choose to scrape the fur side into suede, smoke it, give it a golden hue and the ability to absorb water.
"What's this for, anyway?" he asked, trying to divert the topic to something that wasn't about him. It struck Korbin that he had no idea what this leather was for, or what his sister was even up to lately, aside from the bar. All their conversation had been about him, and his problems.
It made him feel incredibly guilty.
But then... she would know. And how could he be any strength and help to her if she felt she had to look after him, still? Wasn't that why she went to everyone for help except him? Why she turned to outlanders rather than her own brother? He couldn't make himself even less reliable than she already thought he was.
"I give a shit," he mumbled, returning his eyes on the work.
The hide was nearly free from hair now. It would need to be stretched and worked to keep it soft until it was drier, but soon it would be ready for whatever method of tanning she might have decided on. Woodbark, for a dark and sturdy leather? Ground grain and rocksalt, for a soft and supple leather, pretty but that wouldn't endure damp very well? Or perhaps she would choose to scrape the fur side into suede, smoke it, give it a golden hue and the ability to absorb water.
"What's this for, anyway?" he asked, trying to divert the topic to something that wasn't about him. It struck Korbin that he had no idea what this leather was for, or what his sister was even up to lately, aside from the bar. All their conversation had been about him, and his problems.
It made him feel incredibly guilty.
But they can still carry you home
when you are ready to sleep
when you are ready to sleep
