wood carving — SAIL ON

[Kian.]

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Kian Ó Faoláin

The Irishman came back to a tense environment -- eyebrows raised as NPCs filled him in on the gist of recent days.  With the cold front damaging resources, the pirate would have suspected nobody would want a conflict; nobody in their right mind that is.  Old Pittian values conflicting with new or not, it wasn't sensible.  Gael's probably livid.  The small wildcat would not be surprised of that in the slightest.

He had been intending to make this visit a relatively brief one; a check-in so to speak, on his cousins, but the faerie could not help but decide to stick around a little longer.  Just long enough to see the matter resolved; hopefully with no one else hurt.

This is why I hate politics, he mused, setting up a small spot to sit among the marketplace.  The rusty spotted cat found it the perfect place to catch gossip while working.  His jovial smile remained in place despite the uneasy atmosphere, humming a tune as he did some woodcarving -- someone had to keep their spirits up after all. 

Aided by his ability to manipulate water, he used sharp shards of ice to whittle a piece of wood into the shape of a small sailboat, sea-green eyes narrowed in fierce concentration.

We'll all be returning, if we sail together