Relic huffed and puffed her way through the path to the Workshop. Why was it always so hot in the caves? When was the last time she'd been cold - better yet, at a comfortable temperature? The padding of her armour wasn't helping. She'd been worried about taking it off, but just the idea was such a relief she could barely remember that concern. It's not like the Blacksmith would steal it.

I mean, he could. She hasn't met him yet. We're going off of rumours.

Relic had a couple floating around in her boiling head, actually. One about dungeons, more risky but far more rewarding than the one she'd been to. Another about someone who could maybe, possibly, force her into the right direction if she asked. Like a lot of bad ideas, it lingered at the back of her head, ever patient.

This one was the safest choice, the natural step after acquiring and using her armour. Relic paused, a dark smudge in the Workshop's hallway. "Hello? Um-" She didn't have a name to call, and it felt strange using a title. "- Anyone there?"

No response yet. Relic lingered at the entrance for a moment before pushing forward, browsing the collection and admiring how clean and organised the space was. It scratched a deep instinct in her brain pleasantly, and she wondered again about digging out a more permanent den to rest in. A little late now - her paws had become less suited to digging.

She'd seen something similar to the tea set before, though she wasn't exactly sure where or when. Something to do with Scorpio, she imagined. Maybe now she could imagine using those odd little cups for their intended purpose, with all the extra muscles in her paws. She flexed them, talons clacking quietly.

With her hackles covered, only her tail raised and bristled in mild alarm - nothing serious, just the natural anxiety from a large animal appearing suddenly. It didn't take Relic long to settle again.

"Help, uhh - so I've been wearing this armour for a couple of cycles now, it's seen shit. I'm expecting to have to use it again, so I'd like it looking the best it can. And also, maybe some tips on how to take better care of it - I kind of almost trashed it."

The armour itself was dented in places, scratched in others. The most grievous damage was concentrated on the helmet, with was bent and warped from several, devastating blows. The rest of the damage was concentrated closer to the centre, where Azrael's fists had crushed her against the ground.

Relic couldn't help it - the sight of hands reaching for her made her nervous, thought she had no way to express that anymore aside from a cautious side-eye. The Blacksmith was quite obviously a different beast than Azrael, but she wondered if he was, or ever had been, violent - if there could be something else brewing underneath.

They stared at each other through eye slits for a moment. Mask to mask communication.

She shook herself lightly. "Yeah. It's hard to take it off by myself." Relic decided to avoid mentioning that she slept in it most nights. That would feel... weird to admit out loud.

Anticipating that the Blacksmith would move closer to examine her armour, she stood rigidly, head held forward, trusting he wouldn't try anything stupid. "Ok so, the damage. I've been throwing myself at... A lot of things that I maybe shouldn't have? But the biggest cause of the dents was some asshole who got mad at me for like... Beating him at wrestling. And then he threw me around Orion a bunch. I might've ripped his throat out for it? I dunno. I blacked out."

"I haven't been taking care of it, I don't know how. I don't even know where it came from. It fell out of a hole in Gemini and I've been wearing it ever since. Why I'm here, I guess." Relic sighed.

Relic hadn't had the chance to really talk about the armour, or her life, in cycles. It'd spilled out of her while she wasn't paying attention. She refocused now, tempted to shake off the discomfort, before remembering she'd already done that a minute ago. She didn't want the Blacksmith to think he was making her uncomfortable.

"Yes please." She felt like the fur on her spine was going to fall off if she wore the armour for one more cycle.

And she'd forgotten to give him her name. Agh. Minor social blunder. Time to explode. "Oh, I'm Relic." She searched her short-term memory for anything else she might've skipped over - "And tea sounds nice."

Relic had a similar issue, wanting desperately to smile back at this kind stranger but being completely unable to do so in literally any capacity. She just stared, taut-faced, blank. If she thought hard enough about it, maybe he'd get the message. Psychically.

"Uh. Haven't had tea before. Whatever you're having." She settled into the seat, tapping her new claws around the edge. She was enjoying feeling the air on mane again, the flattened fur beginning to spike up again in the heat. It reminded her of simpler days, of a smaller life.

"Teach me everything. I've got all day." She'd extended her neck to peer at the Blacksmith as he busied about the workshop, clearing surfaces and preparing the anvil.

She wrapped her talons around the cup after the tear was poured, feeling the heat soak through and into her palms. "... Do you know anything about where the armour might've come from? It has writing on it. I can't read anything, though."