Dark stones to illuminate history

MABEL

With the notions already out and gone, Mabel could likely leave. He seemed to have the matter at hand, until he didn’t, and she lingered there for a moment, brow arched and contemplations scouring. Her whetstone wouldn’t do the trick; it would only sharpen and polish the edges, and the rounded proportions wouldn’t even be a possibility. “If you worked on it under some powerful, running water?” She knew the pulse and pull of the sea, but the manifestation of its strength was nothing to be sniffed at – especially after what it did to rocks and land after many, many years. “Or a certain kind of stone…” She mumbled, uncertain where to find one that would do a modifying, sanding trick.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out