DEIMOS
The Sword finished on his end, eyeing and surveying the rest of the components left to be matched, paired, the last lingering forefront before they needed to be stuffed. He maintained focus on the primordial tactics, age-old predilections, and habits, only lifting his gaze from the sewing needles and thread when Oliver answered his inquiry. He wasn’t sure who? Perhaps it was a memory loss thing, a pattern of portal problems, trials, tribulations, and fixations. They were skills though, no matter how acquired, and so the General nodded, about to merit or proclaim some form of a compliment, when the blacksmith’s attention must’ve deviated (oops) or fortune had run out. His needle slipped, the point sticking directly into his thumb. The beast hesitated, and without Zuriel in sight (likely twisting around outside somewhere), his head gestured to a bag nearby. "There are some bandages there, if you need them."
Lily and Jigano, varnished in their own adventures amidst the woods, finally both had success. The singer’s quick thinking, and careful removal of her bag from the nettles, ensured that no hole ruptured through the seams, leaving the sack intact, bearing the weight of only snow moss. Jigano’s healing measures would leave Lily lighter, less of brutality lingering upon her, and they could easily trek back to the Artisan’s Guild, and hopefully start stuffing moss into the carpets and rugs already rendered, nearly complete.
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Lily and Jigano may head back to the Guild so we can get these things made! No post order!
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
