Tinkering

She had sought, and found, a small patch of packed earth, hidden away behind tangled hedges and roofed by woven willow arms. A quiet place to work, the sunlight just fine enough to drip through the translucent leaves and pool gently where she needed it. Astarte nodded to herself, tramped the cool ground down a little more, then let the cloth bag she'd been carrying slip down over her neck. A few more clever tugs with her teeth and it unfurled into a neat blank canvas. The pieces of her puzzles were scattered about its heart, glinting invitingly.
She wasn't sure what they would become yet, or if they all belonged to the same dissembled artifact. She had just taken one of the larger "junk" heaps from the tower's storage room and bolted. Even though Sive had long discovered her talent, the furtive habits were hard to break. That, and she was a little afraid of running into her amma's bonded, not in the middle of all that was going on now. She had done what was asked of her, and she had no more left to offer except words that fell short. She had not properly bonded to Sive, not yet, and now the distance of their souls felt acutely obvious.
She sighed and shook her head to clear away thoughts settling like cobwebs. She needed a calm mind for this. Her wiry legs folded beneath her and she settled down somewhat awkwardly. This growing body was getting harder to handle, and while it did allow her to take on larger projects, she missed the grace and slightness of her childhood. On the other hand, young Astarte hadn't known how to do this.
She pulled the scattered objects closer to her, shaking the cloth a bit to layer them evenly out. Delicate machinations of clockwork, wires and crystalline tubes, here and there a flourish of an exquisite casing--all humming with the anticipation of being whole again, needed again. She took a deep breath and felt the beginnings of enchantment stir from deep in her bones, let it reach out and--
One of the larger fragments rose into the air, turning this way and that as Astarte regarded it with a critical eye. Moments later a few small gears flitted to join it, locking cleanly into place, save one which settled forlornly back down. Astarte smiled as she settled into the rhythm of her gift--even at times like this, there was work to be done.
ooc| Open to anyone
