Strel rolled his eyes back at Svara, knowing fully well she was enjoying this all too much. He tried not to react, but it was hard considering he had his reason for what he did. The beads represented who he was and the places he'd been. It was no big loss of the one in the woods, but it was one that could have made a difference between finishing earlier or later on the necklace. "Would you stop picking on me if you eat?" He was sorely tempted to actually find the Constable food if she would just shut up.
"And how do you expect me to make those beads?" he snapped, glaring at Svara. She was pulling at his strings and he wasn't liking it one bit. Maybe if he just grinned and bore it, he would get used to it. "I can sew beads into clothes but I can't exactly make them." He was far from being a glassblower, and being near fire was a difficult thing for Strelein. Cooking fires he was alright with to an extent, but anything bigger and more powerful he was going to avoid like the edge of a cliff.
"Can anyone here make them?"