06-12-2011, 08:50 PM
[html]Daemon didn't lose himself in his work as soon as the slightly younger male let him go, as he might have were he with, say, Fion. Perhaps that was because he wasn't used to the stranger the way he was FIon, or because he was acting strangely--unlike anyone else Daemon had ever met. Either way, Daemon didn't turn away once he had the other man's attention, and he didn't look away when he handed him the needle--those things were painful, should he happen to think of making it a weapon. So he saw the confused look on the stranger's face as it was handed to him, and the way he licked it and then shook his head, probably not liking the metallic taste. He reached out again, to take the stranger's hand, and then pulled him over to the leather that had set into its new shape. He gestured between the needle and the leather, and then carefully lifted two of the pieces--the ones that would encase the ankle and some of the foot--and held them together, staring at the stranger expectantly.
Of course, Fion had come in already knowing how to sew--at least knowing how to patch up his pants when they were torn. He'd had to learn a few new stitches, in order to sew leather instead of cloth, but he'd caught on quickly. Daemon hadn't known any of this when he'd passed him the thread, and a leather-sewing needle, but Fion had a habit of babbling--about absolutely nothing. It used to annoy him, but he rather enjoyed the talk now, since on rare occasions he actually understood what the boy was talking about, and could sometimes imitate the sounds of words--who, how, those sort of sounds.
He didn't know how, but should the stranger not understand, Daemon was prepared to teach him--somehow.
[/html]