Every morning just the same

Lupus | Maison du Coeur; midday (+331)

Left things vague because I wasn’t sure what all you wanted to happen here other than make this thread blacksmith-y somehow? Issola is by the work-in-progress crafting studio.

---

The Princesse sniffed about, eagerly taking in the new scents that were becoming stronger and stronger as the seasons began to change. A child born at the end of spring, the start of summer, the gradual shift to autumn was one that was met with eyes of wonder and an adventurous heart. The leaves were in the process of changing into beautiful hues of yellows, oranges, and reds, and created a tempting smell as they gathered into piles and covered things. As well, there were all kinds of vegetables and fruits to be obtained and snacked upon from the garden and other locations nearby.

Issola and her brother had parted ways to do their own exploring for the day, and the dark Haskel had found herself amongst the works of progress around the little mound village that the pack was working tirelessly on. She did well to skirt around those at work, not wanting to get in their way. Without hands, there wasn’t much she could do to help other than fetch something small or light enough to be carried in or dragged with her jaws. And, even then, she lacked the strength that her siblings and father had. Lean, she had more of her mother’s build than that of her father’s.

It was bothersome as much as it was a hit to her pride that she couldn’t help the older Courtiers. Until she shifted though, she would have to simply settle with her limitations.

Picking her way around, the girl eventually wound up on the northern side of a workshop-type area that was still being built. The scent of freshly cut and burning wood filled her nostrils, calling to her youthful curiosity to check it out. Quietly, the Haskel padded towards the source of the smell. Her pale eyes were ever vigilant of an adult moving about, not wanting to be under foot should they be in the process of building upon the nearby structure.

But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home.

Chances were given to the members of the Court to allow for the selection of which location would be chosen for their own homes. While there was still a lot of work that needed to be done on his own home, Hibiki had picked out the location he would have his home at. It was further off to the side with a group of smaller plots. Though it would have made more sense to be around more members of the court, the other homes would fill up soon enough.

Then again, he was used to living on his own. Some old habits just died hard.

But there was another reason for choosing this spot above the others. Not only was he in good location for where the gathering place would be, but it was a short walk to get to the workshops that were being built. With Kalypso's help, he had made a great deal of progress in getting a blacksmithing workshop set up for himself... or at least himself for now. There was no telling if there would be others interested in the craft he had learned. Until that day came, it would be for his own use.

The dark male came to his spot early. Progress would still need to be made. One problem was the use of a large metal object that could be used as an anvil. There was no such thing here... and without it, crafting with the metal would be far too hard. A soft sigh passed through his lips. Just something else he needed to put together before this place would be operational.

Taking to the forge, he began to burn some of the scrap wood, a little something of heat while he was working. It wasn't like it was ready to actually be used.. not yet. Head moved up slightly among the other in progress shops, spotting the dark pup looking among them from her hiding place. He offered her a smile as her gaze moved along with his movements, "You can come over if you'd like."

Kept mine a little bit vague too. I think it should work. Biki can explain blacksmithing stuff and probably show her heating up metal and bending it at least? +300 words.

(+312)

Sounds good to me! Sorry about the wait >___< I hope I gave you enough to have Hibiki start the blacksmith talk! It’s hard when Issola is not a super social butterfly xD

---

The source of the smell led her to a scene of an adult Courtier working amongst the partially-built structures. It was a male, an unfamiliar one at that. His fur was dark and sooty, ranging in lighter hues of grey and white that reminded Issola of her mother. He had long hair that had a district wave in it. She had seen the male before, she recalled—his tattered clothing had been rather distinct—though, had never formally met him. Too often, she was off on her own adventures or following her family members around.

He seemed to notice her about the same time as she had noticed him. Slate eyes focused upon her, and pale blue focused upon him warily. He was new, an unknown, and the young Haskel wasn’t sure what to make of him. She didn’t have her brother around to sniff him first, or her father to break the ice with introductions. He beckoned her forward with a smile, but she hesitated. She sniffed at the air, her lungs filling with the scent of burning wood. Her eyes danced from object to object that was around the stranger.

What was he doing? Why was he burning things?

In the end, the Princesse was drawn by his open invitation—he had not demanded her come closer, nor had he attempted to block off any path of escape—and her own curiosity for what he was doing. Even still, her approach was cautious, head low, ears pinned, paws ready to bolt. When she drew close enough, it took her moment or two before she felt comfortable to speak with the older Courtier. “What are you doing with the wood?” Her eyes kept bouncing from object to object, wondering what it was this man was doing with it all. “And how come you’re out here all alone?”

But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home.

There were so many new faces here in the Court, even with Hibiki now comfortable calling this place his home. Some were just easy to avoid, or it could have something to do with the fact that he was used to spending time alone. It wasn't that he wasn't social, but rather he was focused, and didn't often see the need to seek out others when it came to spending his time. The only one he had really done that with was Kadir, and she left Sapient before even he had. A soft sigh passed his lips at the thought.

Returning his attention to the pup that had turned up, he was patient with her, seeing the hesitation she had to come closer. He didn't know much of her family, nor whom she was connected to, but that didn't really matter. Who was he to turn down a curious face to his art?

Eventually, she came closer, questioning what he was doing with the wood. A smile crossed over his maw before one hand moved over to the forge, "I am burning the wood to get the fire going. I am going to use it to heat up metal. Have you heard of the art of blacksmithing before?" He doubted it, but there was no telling what she might have already learned from other members or her family.

Her other question was not really uncommon considering his lifestyle. He offered the young one a simple shrug, "I am just used to being alone. I was like that back in Sapient too. It was just, kind of hard for me to make friends. It's better here in the Court, but I tend to work on things here alone, unless someone curious comes along." He offered the dark pup a small wink before he gave a quick turn, checking and fanning the flames on the burning wood.

+300 words.

(+321)

---

She shook her head negatively to his question about blacksmithing. Why did he need to heat up metal? Issola tried to make sense of the foreign word that the adult had used in order to figure out the reasoning on her own. Unfortunately, she knew not of what “smithing” was. The descriptor of the color black did little to help either. “Art” had been mentioned with the word’s introduction though, and the Princesse wondered if, perhaps, whatever this male did had something to do with creative expression.

Trying to make sense of why he’d want to heat it up, she asked curiously, “Does the metal do something interesting when it’s heated up?” Other than get hot, obviously. She remembered trying to cut her teeth on a piece of metal during the summer months, only to instantly realize her mistake when it burned her from touching its scalding surface.

When he winked at her, the dark Haskel shyly—and quickly—looked away. “Mmm,” she hummed. His answer for his loneliness out here appeased her, as she was much of the same. Kept to herself, watched from afar. It was easier to let her brother break the ice and react to individuals according to how they treated Oberyn. Her pale eyes snuck a glance back at the dark male, watching as he fanned the flames.

“Why are you doing that?” She couldn’t stop herself from inquiring. Her brain was ever hungry for knowledge and understanding the world around her, and this man’s strange ways had intrigued her thus far.

Suddenly realizing that she hadn’t been polite, Issola turned her head back to face the older male with her full attention once more. “I’m Issola.” It didn’t occur to her to supply her surname, as most within the Court knew who her father was. After a beat, she thought to add, “What’s your name, mister?”

But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home.

She seemed rather confused, which he should have gathered for one at her age. Pups were still new to a lot of things, and with him being one, if not the, first blacksmith in the Court, it was no wonder even more that she didn't know what it was. Even so, she seemed curious about it, so there was no harm in showing her. Besides, with something like this, such a way of teaching was much easier. He gave another smile, turning away from the flame, "When metal gets really hot, it turns yellow and bright orange. When it's that color, you can shape the metal with tools. I'll show you once the fire is ready."

He had gone back to do some more fanning, but that just made her curiosity spark more. He didn't turn from his work, but answered her regardless, "It helps to spread the flames to the wood and kindling so they burn more and keep it hot." His head moved up to the top of the forge, judging the flames before he reached over for a long strip of metal, "This will be a good one to test." With that, he stuck one end into the flames, leaving it to lean against the lip of the forge.

It would take a small amount of time for the metal to heat up, there was time for introductions. She offered her name, but no surname to go along with it. He had noticed the gold along her pelt, knowing only of two others with similar colorings. She was probably related to Skoll and Galilee, but didn't want to make a bad assumption, so he kept his mouth shut on the matter. Instead, he offered her another smile, kneeling down to her level before he spoke, "My name is Hibiki."

Head turned up to the metal, standing back up as he took it out. He moved back down, careful to keep the bright end away from her body. One finger moved up to the glowing end. It was more of a pinkish red than yellow, so it wasn't ready yet, but this was a good time to show what was happening, "See that? That's what the fire is doing to the metal. It's getting it really hot so it changes color like that. When it gets like that, the metal gets softer and easier to work with. It's not quite ready, but it will be soon."

+400 words.

(+522)

Hibiki, I hope you’re ready to play 20 questions xD

---

Her brows rose and her eyes widened with silent wonder at the concept that the dark male explained to her. Metal could be…shaped? It seemed so hard, so resilient. Like a rock, except you couldn’t really chisel anything from it or break it by dropping it on another rock. She had never seen metal get so hot that it changed colors either. It all seemed unreal to her young mind, and she was glad that he promised to show her this witchcraft that he spoke of. Otherwise, she would have been hard-pressed to believe a word of it.

Issola continued to watch as he fanned the flames of his fire. Was there something special about his kindling? Something special about the way he kept air moving over the fire? Or was fire in general really so destructive and hot that even a campfire might bend metal—supposedly—to its will? Her inquisitive mind was abuzz with questions as theories and other concepts or hypotheses filled her thoughts.

The man took a piece of scrap and settled it so that it felt the full heat of the flames. “Will any fire do what you’re doing here?” She found herself blurting out as she edged closer to his workspace. Her pale eyes danced about, trying to soak up as much information as she could about what she was witnessing. Her nostrils flared as they took in the scent of the burning wood, as well as a metallic one that grew stronger and stronger the longer the piece of metal remained in the fire.

While they waited for the fire to make the metal change colors, they traded names. “Nice to meet you, Hibiki,” she replied politely. His had a fun rhythm to it with its repetitive pattern of consonance-vowel. Issola’s youthful thoughts had fun with mentally shortening the name or adding more to it. Things like, “Hibi” or “Biki” came to mind, which morphed into the childish but cute-sounding “Biki-biki.” His name was much more interesting than her own, or, anyone’s that she could readily recall really.

Hibiki moved to tend to the metal scrap, and the Haskel daughter’s neck craned to see if the metal had, indeed, changed color like he had said it would. As if sensing her curious gaze, he turned so that she could better view the piece of metal. It wasn’t yellow or orange, but, it had definitely changed color. It looked warm, hot, just like the fire that it had been pulled from.

Stupid as it sounded, Issola raised a paw, poised to prod the changed metal. Thankfully, however, she was smart enough to ask permission first. “Can you touch it?” Her mind told her to, if only to see if it was, really, as hot as she thought it might be.

Another question formed as she digested his words, and she asked yet another question of the blacksmith. “What happens if it gets too hot?” Mud dried out. Water evaporated. What happened to metal?

And then another; “And what are you going to make with this?”

But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home.

With such a young mind in his midst, he could only assume that more questions on his craft was going to come through like wildfire. It was interesting in a way. Hibiki thought back to his days in Sapient when he was just learning about blacksmithing, having heard about it from Leonardo. He had wanted a teacher so much that he branched out to Casa to find one. He was just like this pup, asking questions so that he could better understand everything. It was weird now being placed in the role of teacher rather than the student.

Light blue gaze turned down to the girl once he finished with the flames. That was an interesting question. Moving one hand under his chin, he turned back towards the flames, "I suppose in theory you could use any kind of fire so long as the metal was being kept in one of the hottest parts of the fire, but the forge helps to keep the flames and the heat more controlled so it's easier to work with." It was the best he could come up with for such an answer, though it made sense in his own mind.

It didn't take too long for Issola to brighten her gaze when he took the metal out of the fire to show it to her. She reached one paw up, asking if she could touch it, to which he pulled it back, "I'd rather you didn't. I don't want you to burn yourself. Though if it helps, think of how hot a fire feels when you are near it, but that heat right on your hands. That's how hot it is."

He wasn't sure how to answer her next question. What happened when metal got too hot? Well as far as he knew, when it got hot enough to change to yellow, it was able to be shaped, but not anything past that. Giving a simple shrug, he offered her the only answer he had, "I can't say I know for sure. Next time I see my teacher I'll ask her for you."

Arms crossed as his attention drifted back over to the metal. What was he going to make with this? It was just going to be a demonstration for her, but he might as well try to make something. Then he got an idea, "Well, I have been wanting to try a lot of things. I think I'll try to make this piece into a few arrowheads that archers can use for their arrows."

The blacksmith checked once more on the metal, pleased to see it's yellow glow. Holding the tip down towards her, he turned it around in his fingers, "Here, that's what it looks like when it's ready. Now I can show you what it does when it's hot." Setting it back in the fire so the color would not fade, he went over to his tools, grabbing a large brush as well as his hammer. The metal was removed once more, resting above the anvil. In a brief moment he looked over to the pup, "Stay behind me. There are going to be a lot of sparks."

Once she was in place, he moved the brush over the hot part, sparks flying in front of him. Once he did all the sides, the hammer was taken and he began to hit the tip of the metal, flattening it to make more of a pointed triangle. He had two types of arrowheads to try, so this one would be first. As the color of the metal began to revert back towards pinkish red, he knelt down to Issola again, "See here? By using the hammer, when the metal is hot, you can flatten it out and shape it like this. This will be the tip of the arrowhead. Once it starts to lose color, it gets hard again, so it has to go back in the fire to get hotter so I can work with it again."

As he finished explaining just that, the piece was returned to the fire, waiting for the next onslaught of questions she would have for him.

+700 words.

(+514)

Sorry for being slow @__@ Stuck in that post-SoSu slump still. We can wrap this up with your post (since your bracketing) since this is a super old thread?

---

“How do you know what part is the hottest?” She asked, trying to gather a more complete understanding about what it was that Hibiki did. To her young mind, fire was simply fire; it was hot, and it would hurt if touched. Staring at his current setup and where he held the piece of scrap, logic told her that the middle of the fire—or whatever part touched the fire’s source—was where it might hold the most heat. She wanted to be sure though, wanted to make sure her assumptions and deductions were true.

Her ears folded back in embarrassment when the older Courtier denied letting her touch the hot metal. She realized, belatedly, that it had been a dumb question and want, even if her curiosities had made her initially feel otherwise. He was right, she supposed, that the heated metal would be as hot as the fire from whence it had come. If she touched it, she wondered if her flesh would char and change shape and color like the cooked food that she sometimes ate.

Hibiki didn’t seem to have all of her answers—which disappointed the child somewhat—though, his promise to get back to her when he got one satisfied her, and she wagged her tail a bit, nodding. “Okay.” He wasn’t as old as her father or some of the older members of the Court that she had seen, so, she supposed, she could give him a pass for not knowing everything.

Issola’s ears flickered when Hibiki mentioned a newer word to her ever-growing vocabulary. “Arrowheads?” She knew what arrows were, and that archers did. Context told her that, whatever an arrowhead was, it likely had something to do with the arrow itself, likely toward whatever end was considered the “head” instead of the “butt.” Whatever it was, she was eager to see a demonstration of this metalworking art form.

The blacksmith began the process, and her pale eyes watched him with attentive interest before he directed her to stand behind him. She did so, poking her head out from behind her cover so that she could see whatever it was he was to do with the hot metal. Hibiki began to beat the metal scrap, the sound loud and ringing in her sensitive, young ears. Issola endured though, wanting to see this to the end.

Hit after hit, sparks flew, and, eventually, Hibiki had molded something out of what had once been little more than a piece of junk. The shape had changed, flattened, had new edges, and the Haskel was in quiet awe as she took in the fruits of his labor. She remembered seeing the weaponized end of an arrow now that she saw the metal’s new shape. The word and what it was associated to were bound together in her memory banks.

She looked up at Hibiki as he returned the piece to the fire, asking, “It won’t undo what you did at all?” In other words, the change was permanent unless he changed it otherwise.