At last, Hemming was taking a trip to Halifax to raid its many curiosities. Ember, having spotted the male with his knitting, had stated that she knew of a yarn store in the city. The silver male jumped at the idea, of course (knitting with one's own fur seemed a little odd) and off they went. It was a fair walk, but excitement made it faster, and soon enough the two were wandering down the streets of the city. Hemming admired the strange fronts of the buildings, all running together and quite elegant with their square faces. Even more interesting than the maritime architecture was the things that these buildings showed off; in their great glass showrooms they held funny human-shaped plastic things with clothes on them. Most of the clothing they had passed by contained clothes that Hemming wouldn't wear, or even fit into, but there had been a couple curious items. Nothing worth taking home yet, though, and the wolf was saving himself for the yarn store. Dagrun, from her perch on the top of his head, had uttered little discouraging hums each time he had paused to look at something for too long.
Finally he would not only have some different types of yarn to use, he would be able to have a lot of it. Previously, when he was desperate for some more yarn to knit with he had attacked his own fur with a fury, pulling out the tufts that would come with even a little resistance. Also, he hoped that there would be some good books to learn from, because, though it was quite thorough, the book he had was for someone with quite a bit more experience. The wolf had the stitches down, thanks to that book, but the instructions introduced too much individual consideration for him to handle successfully. For now, he needed to be a knitting zombie, faithfully reproducing the exact stitches that he was told to. Once he started to develop a sense for such a thing he could go on to design his own socks and hats (which he would certainly have to do, because wolves had such pesky ears).