it tells you nothing -- trying to make a quiver

[arcy]

✿
trying to hold the wind

Lately, Moomin has been finding himself somewhat distressed by how little he'd tried to learn from his mother. He wasn't all that self sufficient -- he'd never seen the point in learning, since he didn't have any plans of moving out any time soon. Sewing, however, was another story -- it was just another skill he'd picked up with help, for whatever odd plan he'd had for the day. It was probably an odd skill for somebody like Moomin to perform, which mostly meant that Moomin was massive, with big, sharp paws and -- well, he just didn't seem like he could be delicate, or handle such small things, that was all. Moomin, however, had long since perfected the art, and probably would struggle to be rough to save his life.
"Oh! Oh! I know!" Hearing the call, Moomin scrabbles over. His tail is waving enthusiastically, desperate to be of help. However, he falters as he realizes somebody else is offering. Moomin isn't a very good teacher. He struggles to put things into words properly, and he could sometimes get a little frustrated. Instead, he forces himself to settle, and lumbers over to look down at the speared cloth with wide eyes. "What're you trying to make?" He asks, regarding the piece of cloth with curiosity. It didn't look like anything, yet. But that was honestly be be expected.

elysium - polar bear - 2 years