In an aside to his brother, he considered, "I hope not," and watched politely as Attikias held up a hunk of wood. The lion-stag almost made to grab the block, too, but it seemed standard enough. It didn't bear the unusual shape and purpose of a blade. "The one with the stairs?" he asked, following along attentively. That was not far from here - and could most certainly have inspiration to be derived.

Azizos craned his neck to watch as the being worked, carving away chips of wood. It seemed to truly be something to occupy his strange appendages, a honed craftsmanship allowing him to multitask. For a moment, the lion-stag wondered if this was the same sort of toiling that strange Naskital performed to make jewelry and globes seemingly filled with water and snow. Ah, where was all of that now? In his Father's garden…?

Arsu had already asked the questions he wished to, so the morning star relegated himself to shuffling closer, nose barely maintaining a polite distance from Attikias's forearm. Pale eyes watched avidly, witnessing every curve of the knife, flick of the wrist, rotation of the wood-piece. "It's wonderful! I wonder if it could be done with stone, too. Or metals and gems — ah, the possibilities, Arsu." His ears flickered upwards, gaze traveling towards the more needle-like tool. "What purpose does that one serve?"

Azizos seemed pleased with the answer, if not even more curious - the notion of carving things himself never seemed to manifest, as many times he'd passed through Tunnel I to Orion or Polaris. Perhaps, the desire to create was innate when one had hands to work with. It could be the same philosophy as an idle mind needing constant stimulation. Such extreme dexterity brought another necessity with it.

"A crystal may require a sturdier tool - perhaps something more blunt and forceful?" Curiously, his mind drifted towards the tools Naskital had requested from a blacksmith somewhere in Monoceros. Hadn't he desired a hammer and something chisel-like? Unfortunately, the morning star hadn't paid much attention to anything but 'helping' their father herd the reindeer. Otherwise, he may have offered something more helpful. "There are other creatures in the caves - with hands, I believe. A blacksmith, a collector, and - hm." How best to describe the third? "A gift-giver. They all have used tools - or maybe created, at some point." Pale eyes glimmered at the prospect, "you could seek them for ideas?"

His gaze fixed back on the dark elf's handiwork, watching with rapturous attention. "Practice makes perfect," was his only interjection as he shuffled closer, essentially breathing down Attikias's right thigh with his intent watching. If I am precise enough with my telekinesis, could I do the same thing? Azizos hummed quietly at this thought, and resolved to ask the moment the elf was done with this particular piece. A scant few details remained, and it was already astonishingly similar to either of them.

At the admittance of the figurine's purpose - an honoring of prey hunted - and his brother's subsequent sorrow, the morning star straightened so as to bump his nose against Arsu's. "It is a necessary part of life - though..." Azizos hummed again, "one of our fathers uses a magic so that he does not have to hunt to eat. Perhaps, you could do the same - if you see it being worthwhile, of course. You seem to be a practiced hunter." Judging from the odd hides and clothing.

Then, with a chime-like laugh, the lion-stag called towards Arsu again, "it's clearly me. Do you see those handsome features of mine?"

"I've only encountered Naskital, personally - but it seems he - they? are elusive," the lion-stag rumbled in response, "I've only heard of the Collector and Blacksmith. The former resides in Canis. I'm unsure of the latter's location." Azizos seemed almost disappointed to admit this, with a soft sigh. It would help, at least, to pursue either and learn about their behaviors - at the very least. Going along with Attikias could provide an opportunity, at least; if the being went off in search of other hand-holding folks.

His ears flicked, curious; plants could be eaten, but flesh and blood was a requirement for survival. The concept of a balanced diet was lost on Azizos, and he merely hummed as if in thought. "At least you don't have to chase plants down," the lion-stag laughed softly, "unless it's a particularly quick dogwood." Ah, just thinking about those was enough to get the allergies rolling. "There's a lot of plants - perhaps you didn't try the right ones? You could try fruit, too."

His gaze flickered to the canopy near the Eyes, watching as the leaves reflected the light of the bulbs. A particular shift in it had his ears rising up - like he'd heard something. With a tug of magicka, a strange red fruit came tumbling through the air. It hosted lines of hard ridges and leathery skin, likely to deter predators. There's no real-world equivalent, because this is Origin. "Here - try this. You could tear it with your teeth... or maybe that knife," Azizos called as he telekinetically offered the fruit to Attikias, "there's pale fruits inside. They taste, hrm... sweet, and almost salty." It was an interesting blend of flavors to hit your palate with, but they were mild enough.

Azizos didn't lay his head on the elf's thigh, not quite yet. He was preoccupied with play-fighting with his brother over the statue. Scuffling to his hooves and trotting around Attikias's back, the lion-stag huffed. With a dramatic toss of antlers, he harrumphed, "it's so clearly me, with my many points and magnificent antlers!" Promptly, he plopped down right on top of Arsu's back, forelegs crossed delicately at the knees.

"Keep it, to remember us by," the best-of-the-twins agreed with his brother, twisting his head to intentionally lace their antlers together and promptly mouthing 'uh oh' as they did not come loose. "Our father - ah, our lion-father - has a grove that he keeps a number of things in. Trinkets and treasures sorts of things."

And then, Arsu was being Arsu, and Azizos was busying himself with trying to twist his head and neck so that he wasn't caught up in the evening star's antlers.