Ianto
"There weren't so many guilds in the Greatwood, when I first arrived," Ianto says - not that he'd have gotten into art, even if there had been. His time had been spent at Arduinna's heels, but it's been a long time since the Fae lady had pulled his strings, and he's keen not to stumble back into those memories. Instead, with Oliver's decision made, Ianto shuts up the wagon and goes to hop up on the steps at the front of it, patting the space beside him.
"Don't thank me until I've seen your artwork." He chuckles, busy digging in his coat pocket now for his pipe and tobacco. It's true that there is nothing to pull the Wishing Wagon, but as Oliver joins him and Ianto reaches up to pat the side of it, the thing rumbles off regardless. "Just let me know when we reach your forge. If you give directions, it'll follow 'em," he mumbles, the pipe between his lips. "And it'd better be fancy. I want to make fancy bacon in it."
"Don't thank me until I've seen your artwork." He chuckles, busy digging in his coat pocket now for his pipe and tobacco. It's true that there is nothing to pull the Wishing Wagon, but as Oliver joins him and Ianto reaches up to pat the side of it, the thing rumbles off regardless. "Just let me know when we reach your forge. If you give directions, it'll follow 'em," he mumbles, the pipe between his lips. "And it'd better be fancy. I want to make fancy bacon in it."
