BiFrosts | An Impression Left

[Hjormundr]

The afternoon was briskly cold, leaving Hjormundr's coat puffed out as if to brace against it. He blinks stinging chill from his eyes as he pads through the city, gaze seeking out one somewhat-familiar cat in particular. 

Freyja had been cool, but not cold - seemingly interested in allowing him to learn what he could by her side. He wasn't as sure she'd be so welcoming a second time, but if she wasn't as keen, he would leave her be. 

The Kiln wasn't a place he normally frequented - but now he approached it outright, spotting Freyja's dark coat from a short distance away. He dipped his head as he approached, speaking a little more loudly than his usual murmur that he could be sure he would be heard. 

"Miss Freyja? If you aren't busy, I would very much like to watch you craft again today." He blinked slowly at her as he spoke, hoping that she would be willing to let him learn from her again.

[Freyja]

Contrary to the kitten's thoughts, Freyja doesn't push away Hjormundr's presence. However, she doesn't embrace it either, as she hadn't done before. 

She's more quick to notice him this time, perhaps because she was expecting him or another one of his siblings to creep up on her while she worked. While she wouldn't have expected it from any other litter, this one seemed... different.  

She works quietly, patiently, as she has been taught. Even when Hjormundr grasps for her attention with his voice, she doesn't stray away from her task, though she isn't any less aware of him. 

Her dark fur reflecting shades of auburn from the flame's light, she pulls out the mendable glass and swiftly shapes it accordingly, careful with the burning liquid that drips like honey. When the heat disperses, the shape of the glass can be seen: a small fish, smooth and clean from sharp edges. She will color it later. 

Freyja glances down at Hjormundr, letting the glass sit and harden. "There. You watched."

[Hjormundr]

Hjormundr did watch as Freyja poured molten glass, eyes flashing with flame reflected. It was almost hypnotizing - it looked ... almost touchable. He wondered why she didn't use her paws - wouldn't it be easier than using rods? She hadn't answered his query, and a part of him wondered if he should leave. The kiln was dangerous (though he didn't quite understand why), and if he startled her the way Wulfe might he could get her hurt. 

His heart lurched sickeningly at the thought - his mother's reputation in the city would be wounded at this manner of mistake. As she shaped it, he started to step back - though his eyes never left the entrancing, molten glass, and he started as it began to shift in color and harden too.  

And then Freyja's attention was on him again. He blinked at her words, a solid number of tail-lengths away from her by now. That...was what she meant? Disappointment tasted bitter on his tongue, and after a moment he pressed: "That's really pretty. Is it glass?" He knew of it - knew his mother had made it first.  

He didn't speak it, but he hoped that she would answer - and allow him to watch further.

[Freyja]

Freyja hums softly during their time of silence. When Hjormundr speaks, she glances back to the glass. "Yes," she says flatly, but she follows it up: "During the creation process, it's hot. Touch it, and you'll burn." Holding him back wouldn't do, if he decided to be stupid and touch it despite her warning. Pain will teach him. 

She pauses. "...it's not always pretty." She doesn't clarify, but she thinks about the first time she's ever made glass. Not as good as it could've been. 

After this, Freyja isn't sure what else to say to him. Should she kick him out, or let him stay? Will he keep asking her questions? 

She looks to him again. "If you become a diver like your mother, maybe you will be here, making your own things. Glass-making is still a new artform. Maybe you will discover something greater."

[Hjormundr]

Hjormundr listened, eyes fixed intently on Freyja now as she explains. It was hot - that was why she didn't use her paws, wasn't it? He felt clever, kneading his paws into the ground eagerly as she continued to speak. "Does it have to be pretty?" He asked, blinking owlishly at the diver novice. He didn't think the tents were very pretty - or the runes. Or fish. Sticks weren't pretty either - but they were useful. 

"I would like to be a diver, I think." He would - as long as he was good at it. His stomach lurched as he thought about his mother learning he was bad at the thing she was best at - he would have to be good at it. And when Freyja suggested he could discover something greater, he perks up further. "Maybe weapons? Out of glass?" As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them; if that was a great idea, then Freyja would try it and she would get credit for it. He'd be forgotten. 

"Or something else." He shrugged, trying to sound disinterested. "You probably couldn't get it big enough." He wasn't sure that was true - but he hoped maybe it would dissuade her from trying now. He could think of ideas that would work anyway - maybe the edges of weapons covered in glass? He ... wasn't sure actually, if it would be any good anyway. 

"What are you making next, and...can I watch you? I can be quiet and I'll stay out of the way."

[Freyja]

"Pretty means nothing. What I believe is pretty and what you believe are vastly different." Freyja's tail lashes slowly as she tends to the glass fish. She senses the radiating heat has gone down, so she prepares her next crushed batch of materials for the melting process.  "My cousin wants something to be made for decoration. That's all." 

Weapons out of glass. She thinks about it for merely a second before she shakes her head, finding the thought ridiculous. At least with their current level of artistry, it most likely can't be done. Maybe with time. 

"Don't get your hopes up." Freyja's words aren't laced with coddling. Straight to the point, as she's always been, even around the youngest. "Keep an open mind. Whatever the city assigns you, that's your destiny." She pauses. "But if you truly want to be a diver, watching what they do is the smartest thing." 

The novice crushes through the fine dust she's made from shells and whatnot she's gathered. She thinks through his offer. "Don't move from there unless I tell you to. Understand?" Other than that, she doesn't clarify how she feels about his presence. It seems staying is fine by her, at least for now. 

Freyja prepares to move on to the next step, however something in her mind begins to shift. Taking the bowl of dust steadily in her paws, she lowers it enough for Hjormundr to peek if he so chooses. "Glass starts as this: sand, shells, grit. It's the heat that shapes it."

[Hjormundr]

Hjormundr nodded once, but didn't fully appreciate the diver novice's words. He didn't care if someone else thought it was pretty - he didn't care if he thought it was pretty. He wanted it to be useful. 

She told him that his destiny would be whatever the city assigned him, and...well, he didn't disagree - but he also felt confident the city would assign him Diver. It was in his blood. 

"I'll keep watching then." He told her, watching with sharp eyes as she continued to crush shells and other debris. She told him not to move unless she said so, and he agreed with a quick, "yes ma'am" spoken quietly.  Then, she offered for him to look at the finished, crushed product, and he leaned just a little closer to look at it, studying it with interest (his paws were kneading at the floor again). 

"How do you choose what to pick to crush? Is there a way to choose?" He asked softly, watching as his breath faintly stirred her carefully-crafted pile. He would like to impress his mother - maybe he could bring her something worth crushing into glass.

[Freyja]

Freyja nods, satisfied with his polite demeanor. Although the kit can be a nuisance, she can commend him for his abundant curiosity and soft words. She'd rather not have to deal with someone loud. 

"We have to make do with what's here," the novice replies as she lifts up the bowl again and prepares for it to be heated. "... in Forseti territory. Closer to the ocean there are shells and sand abundant. It would be easier to make glass then." At least, Freyja assumes that would be the case. Anything would be much easier if Laguz had their own home again. 

Freyja shakes her head. "You are lucky you were born here and not in the caverns. At least you have a chance to see the ocean for yourself, and not just veiled promises." Then again, they'd have to wait and see. She isn't sure how they'll deal with the monsters when it eventually comes down to it.

[Hjormundr]

Hjormundr listened to Freyja, paws still kneading at the ground in his muted display of enthusiasm. He'd heard of Forseti -  heard the name at least. Knew it was something to be looked down on at best, and hated at worst. He bit his tongue when questions reared their head - he would need to ask someone else, maybe his parents - or an older sibling? 

Setting the question aside, he shifted. She seemed to be talking about stuff that wasn't glassmaking now. He dipped his head. 

"And lucky my mother and father are strong." He blinked at her, pride coloring his small features. "Were you born here?" He asked the darkly-colored molly, then hesitated. That didn't seem like a good question to ask a stranger. 

"Sorry, miss. Only if you want to answer." He bowed his head, hoping his apology would be enough to remedy this verbal-misstep.