the way they always do, When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
Asgeir carved for several more minutes as X'yrin got the hang of it, then turned slowly and opened the case for his chisels. He pulled out the smallest, and as he set the knife in the fold of the case for safe keeping, he felt a gust of air around his tail. Chisel in hand, the man straightened in his seat, and came face to face with a particularly large owl. He'd seen owls from a distance. He'd seen a bare few on the arms of their handlers. But none of those had been staring at him like they were going to yank his whiskers out. Unsure whether to stare at the bird of prey or carefully lower his gaze, Asgeir settled after a few moments with cautious watching from the corner of his eye, though he appeared to be staring at his lap.
He had been right. The wood wanted to be a bird, and by some miracle he had been given a perfect model for the little figurine. With deft fingers the man made twin slants for eyes, a 'v' of a beak (though the real thing was more of a cruel and powerful looking curve) and hints of wings along the sides. Finishing with the 'toes' of his carving, he raised his eyes to look at his riding companion. They'd ridden some distance, and while she may not have been completely at ease, Asgeir thought maybe X'yrin was actually enjoying herself. Sometimes learning could be loads of fun.
He shifted in his seat again, grasping a piece of sandpaper and running it over the features of the figurine, then turned around one last time, reaching to take the leads from her and tying them loosely around a small post on the front of the wagon. Sunny and Speck would drive themselves for a few minutes. Asgeir didn't know how far they'd gone, he'd not been paying that much attention. It didn't feel like far, but he didn't want to find that he was crossing the other borders and had missed the opportunity to give back to her. Holding it carefully, Asgeir extended the little owl toward X'yrin. I wanted t' thank you for bringing me through here. You've done a good job driving th' wagon, and it allowed me t' get this done. Here. He broke off suddenly after that final word. Silver-tongued the man was not, and what more was there to say than what he had said already?
You just wish the trip was through
[/html]