Since hearing Gabriel's final words days ago, Oxford had become increasingly comfortable living in Inferni. He had discovered a small but cozy cave where Gabriel had directed him and had made it his home. It was decorated in the hides of a few animals and he'd set up his tools in an organized arrangement. It was a bit empty, but with time he was sure he could fill it up.[/html]Today, he intended to make a nice knife for himself. His old one was growing too dull and he wasn't confident enough in its ability. All through his life, he'd collected little scraps to be used for his jewelry and weaponry. Metal from lumber mills or scrap yards were what he used for most of his knives and such. On a flattened boulder he'd found a few yards from his home surrounded by weeds and smaller rocks, Oxford had set up a small workshop. On a piece of carbon saw-blade stock, something he'd cherished as a great find during one of his lumber mill raids, Oxford designed the blade to his liking. With closed eyes, he pictured what he wanted before slowly and carefully tracing his picture onto the metal.
Clouds blocked out the sun, making it rather cold out, around 10°C. Still, he found beads of sweat had collected on his brows as he worked, showing his deep concentration. Some might consider Oxford a perfectionist, always wanting his works to turn out exactly as he'd planned. And maybe he was. Surely he looked like one as he moved the razor knife at a snail's pace along the steel, cutting out the blade of his knife.
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