To Work Leather (Sama'el)

[Cardinal]

19th of Winter, 510 AV Utine Redpelt was perhaps getting up in age, or perhaps she had already gotten there long ago. She had watched generations move through her pavilion, which she had at one point been the head wife of. Now, though, she was freer to enjoy her life. Having lived so long, she still owned a place of respect with those living with her, and most days she was able to do exactly as she pleased. On the days others expected any more than that from her, her hip mysteriously started to act up or her hands started to ache. It was important to note, however, that she still controlled most of the leatherworking business that the Redpelt Pavilion ran. Every morning she would oversee their stock being brought out from their pavilion, artfully arranged as always, and then she would sit in the sun, enjoying her own surprisingly nimble fingers working to decorate leather. There were many years her work had won awards, and her skills typically commanded a high price. There was no doubt that the old woman still had her keen eyesight. She sat on a chair that was higher off the ground than most, an aid in making sure she was able to stand up and sit down on her own. On her lap was a bag, still rather plain, that she was calmly putting knots onto. As one of the Redpelt children ran past chasing another, she let out a yell after them of, “Watch your feet, weaselings! There’s plenty to trip on about here!”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

There were many things that went into making a pavilion, more than just the pavilion itself and, as he was more aware of today than on most days, many little things almost as important as the people and horses that made it up as well. He had begun to prove himself as a rider and hunter, and the Web was slowly coming within his grasp as well. But an Ankal also needed to keep his pavilion in all the goods they needed; hence, his trip among the Ruby Clan pavilions. What he could not afford or did not need right that day, it would be imperative to know the proper prices. On another day, perhaps tomorrow, he would do the same among the Amethyst Clan pavilions, trying to keep an unbiased eye out for a stallion for Dohaina. And possibly for Dara if he did manage to win Dymphna's hand before another man could manage it. A gaggle of children rushed past him, and he paused, his gaze following them as he wondered if... or perhaps, when he might have fathered as many himself, built a pavilion of red-headed children... Smiling a rather foolish smile, his gaze turned back to follow the children's path which led to an old woman working diligently with leather. He walked toward her, the supple leather of his pants making little noise. Still, it was best not to creep up on old people; their hearts couldn't always take it. "Ho, Grandmother," he called softly, a respectful sort of way to greet one's elders if not from one's pavilion or even one's clan.

[Cardinal]

The old woman, so wrinkled it was hard to tell her brow from her eyelids until she blinked, didn’t bother looking up from her work at the young man approaching. Instead she finished up two more stitches before saying slyly, “Your smile is loud, Colt. You wear your happiness like bells.” She pulled her leather close to her face, picking at some of her embroidery to force it to settle right. A soft guffaw was let out as it didn’t seem to be doing what she wanted. “What brings you to the Redpelt Pavilion today?” It was only then that she turned her brilliant blue eyes to him.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

His face felt instantly warm, and he already knew that he was going to have to learn how to control his emotions better, or at least how easily they were broadcast from his face, if he was going to be an effective leader. It must have been sheer, dumb good luck that kept him alive so long. But grandmothers always saw through young men like him, he supposed. "Oh, it's... well, I think... there's this filly that... yeah..." The dumb grin continued. "I'm, ah... I'm looking around mostly," he continued, more to the point. "I'm on my own, trying to start a pavilion. Looking to see how much things cost, learning who the best craftspeople are, and all that. Things an Ankal should know." He paused. She reminded him of his Nana. It was likely the wrinkles and the knowing eyes. "What's that you're working on?"

[Cardinal]

She gave him a wheezing laugh at the first of his response. The grin that rode up onto her face exposed a less-than-toothy grin. “Aye, well… Fillies tend to have that effect on your kind. A Drykas man has a better chance than most with them, I suppose. Happiness begets children. Remember that secret.” She spoke from experience, having birthed fifteen of her own – Many Ankals of their own pavilions before their spirits passed back into the Web. “This is a bag. I’m decorating it to sell…” She paused then, putting the bag down on her lap as she seemed to consider something. Whatever it was she thought, though, she didn’t give away. Instead she held out the leather for him to see and calmly waited for him to continue on with his questions. The young ones always had questions.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He smiled in response, finding a strange, unexpected sort of beauty in a face that time had robbed of more obvious beauties. Trying not to look awkward just standing there, a bit of his heart exposed to the old woman, and probably a good deal more of it than he realized, he shifted his weight to the other foot. "She's from the Opal Clan," he offered, apropos of nothing save a joy in sharing what joy was his. "I will remember." If happiness begat children, they would have many, he thought, and was content. Taking the proffered bag, he turned it over in his hands, trying to see what made it better than what was offered from other pavilions. He knew that this pavilion had a great reputation. Tugging at it, it certainly seemed sturdily constructed, but as he had no expert opinion to share, he handed it back. "I wish I could make things," he said. Then, after a pause, "Forgive my bad manners, Grandmother. I am Sama'el of the Sapphire Clan. May I sit with you a while?"

[Cardinal]

“Ah, an Opal Clan girl… Good for scrapes and hunting wounds, those girls,” the old woman chuckled. Taking back her bag, she pulled the needle free once again before moving to push it through the leather once again. Most women would need a thimble for this work, but her callouses had formed over a lifetime of doing the same movements over and over again. She worked quickly and neatly. “Sama’el of the Sapphire Clan, on his own,” she seemed to muse. “Sit if you wish, colt. I’m Utine Redpelt.” She paused, watching one of the children run through with a spear before yelling at him, “Take that weapon elsewhere, weaseling! Mark the leather with that point and I’ll match it on your hide!”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He smothered a smile behind his hand as he dodged the offending spear tip and took a seat near the old woman. She certainly did remind him of his grandmother, even if the name was only an honorific in this case. The turf where he sat wasn't beat down too hard, and he found his eyes erring toward her expert fingers. He almost sighed at the recognition of true skill. The closest he had to that sort of skill was staying on a horse's back, but he felt like most of that was instinctive. While watching, he forgot to ask questions, rubbing at the knee of his leather pants and wondering how hard it actually was. He had never done more than help with minor things where crafts were involved before his childhood had ended so violently. It was fascinating to watch, as with Ha'na at her wheel or Lillis throwing cards and knowing what they all meant in some intuitive bigger picture.

[Cardinal]

“That one will end up disappearing into the grass, he will,” she muttered to herself. “Wild like a glassbeak, just like his father…” For a long while she didn’t seem to pay any attention to Sama’el. The needle in her fingers went up through the leather, pulling the thread through with a soft hissing sound as it moved, and then it went back down again repeating the noise. The work was tilted, though, so he could see what she was doing. The knotwork was intricate and a knowledgeable eye would notice that she was working glyphs. After a time she grew tired of working slowly for him and began to work at her typical quick pace. “All should have a trade… Tell me what is yours?”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He glanced after her ill-omened young relative, then back to observe her work. Likely he would find some scraps of leather and attempt to teach himself a thing or two after witnessing this. He always wanted to try new things, to be able to know how to do anything because one never knew what need would arise. The symbols certainly looked mystical to him, but he was too embarrassed to ask questions about them. He was of the Sapphire Clan, after all, and they were supposed to be the keepers of such mysteries. Yet another failure to turn around. "Well, like I said... I think. I'm training myself to become an Ankal. Mine is gone so it falls on me... I'm an excellent rider," he said with confidence rather than pride. "Learning to Web, always working on other skills: scimitar, archery, hunting and tracking... But I don't know much in the lines of what you're good at... I suppose I shall have to marry a Ruby girl too..." He smiled whimsically at the thought, and hoped that Dymphna would be all right with that when the time came. Traditions were traditions, but some Drykas girls still got territorial with their husbands.