Hrafn was oblivious to Siv's suggestive smile, as he was to most suggestive things. All he did was respond with a toothy grin when she said that it would be lovely. "Carry nails once I get some." He answered, "keeping feathers and arrowtips in my quiver, but it's not good." The feathers would fray because he didn't have a proper pouch for them and the arrowheads would sometimes go dull.
He tugged at his makeshift belt and it made the tools sway and shift against his muscled, brown furred thighs as he tilted his head downward to look it over. He had been proud of his belt making "skill" but obviously he was not a master at it, or even near an apprentice for that matter. His strength lay in woodwork when it came to making something and that was where it would remain. Hrafn moved closer so Siv could better inspect it, leaving couple feet of space between them, having no qualms with personal space, especially with another member of Salsola whether he knew them well or not.
"Can you do?" He asked, once again lacking the proper vocabulary from being raised in an incredibly non-vocal environment as a child. Hrafn did not care though or perhaps did not notice, for it had been months since he had spoken before coming to Salsola and he was glad to have others to talk to again. Talking reminded him of his parents and it was nice to have a reminder.