Ill-Made Martyr [Open]

For the first moment, Peter wasn't sure what he was meant to be looking at, only noticing Maea's concentration. The stone moving caught him by  surprise, his brows furrowing and his hand coming up as if to catch it. It took another beat before he seemed to realise, looking up at Maea with wonder in his face. His hand snatched the stone from the air and brought it up close to his face so he could glance down at it, then back up at her. Acquired had a much nicer ring to it than Abandoned did. It felt sharper in Peter's mind, bright and shiny and new. "I like Ac-Acquired... like it more." He offered, looking back down at the stone in his hand, concentrating on it as if he would be able to make it move with a little effort. It stayed stubbornly still, though Peter hadn't really expected anything different. "I-I don't really... I've never, um... never made..." Never made anything that wasn't purely utilitarian. Peter's empty hand came up to rub at his mouth while he thought, putting his rarely used imagination to the test. It shouldn't be that hard, right? Inspiration struck Peter suddenly, and he held out his hand to Maea, the stone she had moved now wrapped in a thin silvery wire, and hanging from a simple chain. Peter stared at the pendent in his hand, finding it strange to have made a thing instead of a tool. "If you... if it's not, uh, not good enough, I can... I can try again. Make something different." Peter The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.