She considered the man's question, thinking of joints and breaks and elasticity. Big words and complex concepts, but they were part of the knowledge she had.
"I can make things bend a little bit. Just not too much." To demonstrate, she commanded one of the chairs to walk. It shuffled forward, the legs able to flex just slightly under her power. Nowhere near the way a person's leg would bend at the knee, but just enough that it could hobble forward, creaking the whole way.
The chair was boring, however. She forgot about it completely. It kept walking, continuing to follow her command since she had not actually released it from her power. It kept walking between the tables of the restaurant, customers and waitresses dodging out of the way, bewildered looks on their eyes. It started heading towards the street, then grew still once it got too far from Trinket, unable to move without her power nearby.
The question about breaking something in half intrigued her more than the chair. She looked at one of the forks on the table and commanded it to break. It started bending back and forth, one way then the other, trying to break itself. The metal refuses to snap at first, but the fork continued twisting itself back and forth, back and forth, fast as it could go. Eventually, the metal wore down at the point of the bend, and the fork broke in two.
Tilting her head, Trinket considered the broken pieces. She had never tried this before. She commanded the pieces to repair. They wiggled and wobbled on the table, pressing the two broken ends back together. But the pieces could not join. A slight frown touched her lips. The two pieces continued to clink against each other over and over, trying to reconnect, but to no avail.
"I can make things bend a little bit. Just not too much." To demonstrate, she commanded one of the chairs to walk. It shuffled forward, the legs able to flex just slightly under her power. Nowhere near the way a person's leg would bend at the knee, but just enough that it could hobble forward, creaking the whole way.
The chair was boring, however. She forgot about it completely. It kept walking, continuing to follow her command since she had not actually released it from her power. It kept walking between the tables of the restaurant, customers and waitresses dodging out of the way, bewildered looks on their eyes. It started heading towards the street, then grew still once it got too far from Trinket, unable to move without her power nearby.
The question about breaking something in half intrigued her more than the chair. She looked at one of the forks on the table and commanded it to break. It started bending back and forth, one way then the other, trying to break itself. The metal refuses to snap at first, but the fork continued twisting itself back and forth, back and forth, fast as it could go. Eventually, the metal wore down at the point of the bend, and the fork broke in two.
Tilting her head, Trinket considered the broken pieces. She had never tried this before. She commanded the pieces to repair. They wiggled and wobbled on the table, pressing the two broken ends back together. But the pieces could not join. A slight frown touched her lips. The two pieces continued to clink against each other over and over, trying to reconnect, but to no avail.
