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When she'd driven the awl through a few times, she realised it was going to be a slower job than she'd planned. The leather had hardened from constant wear, and perhaps she should be oiling it first. But she'd made some stitches already, so it was too late now. Each one seemed a little harder, but she calmed her mind, counting breaths and remembering Alae and that peaceful sunset. Her patience was put sorely to the test when she looked up and realised dusk had come over the room like a curtain drawn closed and it was all but impossible to see where she was stabbing her needle. She bent closely over the leather, forgetting her childhood lessons of eyesight preservation and deciding on a spot, drove the awl down hard. It skidded on the leather so she lifted herself onto her knees and drove down again. This time it pierced both hems and stuck fast upright in the table, but Caspa wasn't looking at this strange phenomenon, she was half-looking over her shoulder at the red-haired wolf who stood with poise in the entrance, watching her. She had never seen him before, but he was clearly an entrenched resident, vividly coloured, handsome, creamy-furred and looking at Caspa with what she imagined to be cool evaluation. The braided mongrel gave an impatient grunt, directed at herself and the dim lighting, turning her attention to the awl and with a small amount of horror beginning to work it free of the table's now pock-marked wood. "I am nailing my jacket to this item of your furniture," she answered candidly, but her eyes were remorseful and the self-deprecation evident. She was caught out in her lie by the rolls of sinew-thread and other tools, so hopefully he wouldn't take her literally, although it was in fact what she had just done. The offending point came free and she laid it down safely. "I was about to stop the vandalism now anyway, please don't concern yourself." She swept her stuff into a bundle and stood up, seizing the whiskey as a final flourish. These dusty halls were vastly improved by a swig or two of the amber fluid. She supposed she'd be heading off alone to her room again, but this fellow with his suave voice and his adornments seemed interesting and she wondered how long her admittedly succinct conversational skills would be able to hold him. |