Guts is slow to wake to the calming sound of rain, having plunged into an unusually deep sleep. He didn't wake up once, despite the rise in activity that would normally have him jolting to alertness. The pain didn't disturb him as he expected, which left nothing but the tiredness of a day's exertion. Peaceful, despite some of the revelations of the night prior.
He examines the bruising of his ribs, pressing lightly with his fingers to test how tender they were beneath the robe. The medicine and healing charm of the sword did its work, however, leaving him aching less than he might have originally. He attributes it mostly to the Apothecary's work, and is agreeable enough when she suggests for him to move his things to the guest house for the night. He thanks her, too, for the medicine, even if it tasted 'like someone bathed their feet in it, first' (to use the exact descriptor). He'd move the sword to the guest house later.
The bear paw is given rather freely to the questioning Sister, offering it to her to make whatever she pleased of it. He didn't consider himself a craftsman. He had no particular opinion on what to make of it and was hesitant to form attachments to objects, even keepsakes. They can sort out the rest once its made into something.
And from there he changes clothes (ignoring any wandering stares) borrows a cloak, and runs out in the rain to his first task. Running still aggravated his sides, he is quick to discover, but he makes it to the Forge merely wet and a little sore. He'd heard the singing of the women his first week there, wandering the compound, but never bothered to enter inside until now.
Surveying the hot interior of the forge, he looks for Lashan. He wanted to see how she was holding up. The space wasn't entirely unfamiliar - he'd visited enough blacksmiths to have swords made for him to get used to the fire and the noise of hammer strikes on metal. His eyes would pause at the anvils, occasionally, looking at the sparks, before he continued searching.
no subject
He examines the bruising of his ribs, pressing lightly with his fingers to test how tender they were beneath the robe. The medicine and healing charm of the sword did its work, however, leaving him aching less than he might have originally. He attributes it mostly to the Apothecary's work, and is agreeable enough when she suggests for him to move his things to the guest house for the night. He thanks her, too, for the medicine, even if it tasted 'like someone bathed their feet in it, first' (to use the exact descriptor). He'd move the sword to the guest house later.
The bear paw is given rather freely to the questioning Sister, offering it to her to make whatever she pleased of it. He didn't consider himself a craftsman. He had no particular opinion on what to make of it and was hesitant to form attachments to objects, even keepsakes. They can sort out the rest once its made into something.
And from there he changes clothes (ignoring any wandering stares) borrows a cloak, and runs out in the rain to his first task. Running still aggravated his sides, he is quick to discover, but he makes it to the Forge merely wet and a little sore. He'd heard the singing of the women his first week there, wandering the compound, but never bothered to enter inside until now.
Surveying the hot interior of the forge, he looks for Lashan. He wanted to see how she was holding up. The space wasn't entirely unfamiliar - he'd visited enough blacksmiths to have swords made for him to get used to the fire and the noise of hammer strikes on metal. His eyes would pause at the anvils, occasionally, looking at the sparks, before he continued searching.