Any Dear To You [Closed - Lavon]

[attr="class","sun"]I Distress You ;

I Draw Fast To An End

Quilliam, awoken with a start by a returning hunter, shuffled through the torch-lit caverns towards the dwellings, a tanned leather-bound book and crudely-finished hunting knife dangling from her hands. The tent she arrived at, surrounded by a pleasant herbal aroma and neatly-kept braziers, garnered from her the usual scowl. She could see his silhouette through the light leather of the tent, more than that she could even tell which book he was rereading just from how he held it. Such was the reluctant level of familiarity Quilliam had with the one crafter she felt comfortable letting review her newest attempts at innovation. Quilliam balanced the forged blade atop her finger, checking again the successful weightlessness-tricking. The illusory magicks she imbued in her creations were not what she would hope the focal point of his review to be, however. Reflecting the warm fire, the steel glimmered slightly, from the small metal guard at the forward edge of the handle to the improvised 'drop' towards the point. Bloodshot eyes nights prior had looked over and over the durability of a concave portion at the front of the knife, allowing for a sharper point and appearing as though a section near the tip had been 'clipped off'. With different vine and hide samples, Quilliam had tested its ability to skin game with this unique knife pattern. Lastly, she had cut a notch, near the base of the blade, for utility purposes; among the applications tested were sinew stripping and net repair. Kwai had likened the idea to catching a foe's sword or weapon--she found this silly and moreover dangerous. The concept had occurred to her during a self-induced daze or dream, some amount of days ago. She had only recently, a few hours ago in truth, woken up to start working on it. Returning the blade to the sheath she had quickly sewn together for it, Quilliam let relax her shoulders and, letting out a yawn, prepared to call upon her colleague.

Now, she knew that someone less familiar, less tactful, would ask in earnest. And she knew they would receive no reply. "Ganz. The leaves of autumn have fallen upon you. Feh. I can see you reading there, would you prefer I not return this manual to you?" To make her claim serious, Quilliam knocked on the thick leather cover, making an unmistakable sound that was sure to rouse Lavon to attention...