“They’re alright, for a bug.” He wrinkles his nose a little, thinking of the flies, wasps, and other insects that plagued the hot summers. He wasn’t entirely devoid of some youthful irritation with the world. Dragonflies get a slight bump up in the rankings for not biting him on those warm and humid months.

“Well then, blue it is.” He agrees with her easily, ignorant of Lashan snooping in on his thoughts. He does notice the old woman had sauntered off, and cranes his neck to get a look at her.

“Well, since you’re not about to fall apart, I’ll stay out of the way.”

Guts was not a picky client, it seems. He will leave the blacksmiths to do their work and occupy himself with something else. Probably training agility again, once the rain storm clears.