It'd been a little bit since the clan came home, Attikias having been fretting over the amulet. How had someone shaped metal to be that thick? He'd had weapons, but he figured they were kinda just carved out like everything else, but the thing chain linked together on it absolutely blew his mind.

It was so smooth. What could even make it this smooth? Ah- as he slid his hand over its surface, he mused gently with silent imagery coming to his head. Perhaps the Blacksmith made it? There was someone he needed to meet, but he didn't have a lick of knowledge as to where he'd be. The Collector seemed to want to direct him to the other creator?

Speaking of the Collector, he pointedly didn't have his knife with him today- for now, it sat alone in his pile of objects, laid aside for the time being. There was the concern of killing someone else that weighed so heavily on him. He could give it back, perhaps, but he'd already used it- he might as well pay with something. Later, maybe- when he had to... To put someone out of their misery, rather than working on the inflated confidence he had when it was on his person.

He wasn't going to set a bad example for his family. He wasn't going to become the kind of person Azure was afraid he'd be.

Running his hand down his face, he stifled a deep yawn as he finally stood from his bed after prying Asteri off, stretching with a very soft whine. It was too early for the kids to be awake but his dreams had recently been rather haunting, waking up him before the lights returned to his vision.

No matter, he could work in the dull morning light as he dropped his clothes, making sure everyone's eyes were closed. A quick change was performed into a rather more developed pair of pants and he slid his bare feet into a pair of sandals. Let the day begin.

He deposited the amulet around the neck of a broken urn before grabbing his bag. Ah, wait- a small pitcher followed too, jammed into the side as a sort of makeshift divider. The little Overseer stared at him from the bottom of this bag- new, too, for the old one he'd given to his children- from a special little pocket made just for it.

He'd been mulling for too long on what he wanted to do today, but first? First, he was hungry, and he made to flare out his magic for finding something... Small, perhaps? He didn't wanna sit there and cook a whole deer, but maybe... Hm. A bird would work.

There. A small blip in the trees lit up in his vision, and he made for the newer rusted spear he found a while back. His old one had been given to Hunter, and this worked just as well. Was it throwing time? ... He regrettably didn't have a bow, right now, still unable to find that perfect wood to make it.

Yeah, this'd do. He followed the blip- a collection of them actually, and held the spear at ready, leaving the bag behind at the camp.

Welcome to anyone looking for Attikias to craft items or dyes, or just companionship. Title reference: Downhill by Lincoln.

Finally, he came upon the flock- or, rather, mated pair? It was two of those... Rainbow ones, the pretty ones that liked to come around camp when he was particularly noisy yet gentle. They were nestled together- they'd turned their eyes to him, and Attikias tensed at the attention.

They seemed to be flaring up, too. Did they know he intended on hunting them? Ah, but he was hungry- but their friendliness, their intelligence, gave him a brief fear. He had to eat, after all.

"Hello?" And they flared up further, feathers ruffled at the attention turned back to them, before a soft chirp was given down to him. Okay, now he couldn't kill them.

Kill. What a word. Oh, here he put his head in a hand, the spear dropping to his side. Why did they have to be so friendly? Ah, man... Really, he just woke up. He didn't have time for his own shit tonight. He sighed in deeply, shaking his muscles to move before he had a chance to think. 'Alright, just, y'know. A bit of animal murder. You do it all the time with other animals, but they don't... Watch you,' he begged mentally.

Ah, they were too small to be food anyways. Maybe he could find a deer or something? Clearing his throat, he tittered up at them with his fingers running against one another to get their attention. They shied away from that, too, but one- the two eyed one- leaned in closer after a moment's deliberation. "Yeah, that's it, lil bud." Was it a bud?

He- he was hungry, though. And- ah. He winced. He could... He could use those feathers, and his jaw set unhappily. He tensed, his spear drawing up again, and he made to stab the point into the- the poor bird. No, he couldn't.

But, he could borrow some of the feathers maybe? Would- would that be morally okay? In one motion, he threw the spear to the side and tried to jump to the low hanging branch they perched on, looking to grab the little thing in both hands.

His hands wrapped around a small, warm body, and immediately he was raked by talons and a screaming cacophony rose up. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" His mouth moved fast as he pulled the hyperventilating bird closer, feeling its bites on his fingers. "I just want a feather I don't want to hurt you we could be friends just let me-" He kept going, nearly trembling as he combed loose fingers to pull away loose rainbows.

"Just- just stay with me here, okay?" What if- what if he did something with his magic and like, made it... Better? He didn't want to hurt it anymore, he just... Wanted to hold it, right?

It didn't agree with him, despite him trying to impose his magic in some unknown way. Instead, it kept pecking at his skin, giving him scratches over his knuckles as he tightened his grip on the little thing. Feathers had floofed out to the sides as he ran his fingers over the little body, finally letting it free at the last minute for it to fly away.

"Ach!" A particularly sharp bite was delivered before the bird was free. "Shit, I'm sorry!" But it was already long gone, leaving light trails of red down the man's fingers.

He sighed, wrapping his hands around one another before he bent to the feathers that'd drifted to his feet, scavenging them up into a little collection of his own. Apprehension was given to the birds, who were long gone by now- was that... Cruel, of him? Kind of, yes. Well, the other option was killing, and he winced again.

Alright, don't think about that for the rest of the day. with his handful of rainbow streaks he returned back home, trying his best to be quiet. He probably had some jerky stashed away- ah, there! When he made his way to his pile, an urn held the food he looked for, retrieved and immediately snacked on.

Well, what was he gonna do with these feathers? That being- Elspet- had made dye with some other things, and the shimmering-ness of them gave him an idea. For now, though, he set them aside, leaving them for a moment.

He needed something to grind them with, and he bent sat by the firepit, taking a handful of dirt and ash. Elspet had made gems from dirt- maybe he could? Magic wasn't universal, though, but as he went to press the clumps together, he pulsed out his own magic anyways into the clod in his hands.

It fell short, quickly, and Attikias came to realize that she might've had a bit more than just a tiny handful of dirt. Was it not enough? Gathering up the loose, dusty sand of the commonly tread ground, Attik tried again, pressing both hands together this time.

There. This time, a sizable gem rose from the ground, shaping into an orb under his fingers. With his inexperience it was naught but a small, nearly shattered piece- good for his uses.

Now. This was the good part. Turn to the side, he grabbed himself first an axe, placed the gem on it, then retrieved his weapon of choice. Sorry, kids, dad's gonna be makin' some noise! Rearing up, he lifted a warhammer up behind him, squared his legs and made to slam it right on top of the chosen target.

Not like this was the weirdest noise that's happened in the camp.

Inhale, exhale, slam. The clang of metal rose out along with an intense crrack!, ringing out across the camp. The gem itself shattered- not in as small pieces as he wanted, but there was still enough dust there to use for his purposes.

He dropped the hammer to the side unceremoniously, letting its hilt rest on the axe's. "Alrighty, there," and his voice was lower as though he didn't potentially wake up his entire family. Like a gremlin, he squatted down and gathered up the bits, putting them together in a hand.

Alright, now, he needed one of those vials, and he retrieved one in short order. This would be interesting, hm. He let the dust of the silver gem fall into the glass before making his way over to the feathers he'd gathered, making to strip them of the fluffy hairs along the sides. His fingers dangled briefly to get the last of them in the jar- that seemed to be enough, right?

His hand flicked away the rest before he made to the jug of water he kept nearby, tilting it to fill up the vial the rest of the way. 'Alright, what now?' He tilted the concoction he'd made, seeing simply dust and now filaments floating around instead of dye.

He shook it a little, watching his makeshift tornado swirl around with his hand capping off the top, until... An idea! Right, didn't Elspet use some magic? So, what could he use... Maybe something rainbow-y, like the feathers he used? Closing his eyes and concentrating, he channeled his magic into the glass to make something new.

When he poked open his eyes, nothing came, and he frowned. Maybe it hadn't worked, like the gem he'd try to bring forth? No, okay, he sat it down, stepping away for a minute.

Maybe he was just still hungry. Would hunger be a force in that? Setting the glass in the middle of the fire pit, he grabbed another piece of jerky and chewed on it thoughtfully. Did magic need rituals? No, this should work, but it just decided to not to right now.

Alright, breathe in, breathe out. He cupped his hands around the glass this time as he sat with his legs folded, back hunched over and face straining in focus. There- a small beam of light washed over his palms, running through a gauntlet of colors and driving the water inside the jar to partake in its dance. He smiled at his success- yes! He'd made a dye with those colors, just like the bird, and he brought it closer.

The magic of it made it more viscous, and he swirled it a bit, unable to notice anything gritty in the now opaque paint. Aw hell yeah. Curious for the feel of it, he dipped the tip of his finger into the material, watching as it dripped down when he raised it back up.

Could he do something with this now? Hm, he could dye himself like Elspet, but the harsh edges just didn't seem to be his style. No, his was, uh... Like the amulet! Paint still on his hand, he reached over and left a dot on the amulet he'd retrieved, tracing the imprints with his eyes. Now, this was more like it.

Humming to himself, he swirled his finger (dipping every so often) in a filigree pattern, replacing leaves for forms similar to water droplets. Aw, yeah- and it was drying fast as he raised the arm to the sky, looking as it stuck to his suede hair. Even more surprising was hen he touched his hand to the dry parts- it was hard, cold, and shiny, reflecting light gorgeously.

Hey, he could do this for his kids! But- he had to make this permanent, for now- wait... He could do a bit more, and he pressed into the droplets a bit more to round them out. Yeah, that'd be good for some color in there.

First off, the metallics reminded him starkly of pearls- or, at least, when he tried oyster for the first time, the inside of those things. He could probably grind those up (a bit more carefully, now that he realized he'd dented his axe) and get some nice shimmer off of them. The next vial he grabbed was smaller, and he looked into his pile of stuff for any discarded oyster shells.

Ah, there! It was a bit buries, but he retrieved the craggly surface, turning it over to reveal the shimmering white surface. Oh, hell yeah. He was grinning, now, returning to his axe-and-hammer grinding system, placing the poor thing in place a bit more carefully this time.

Alright. Grab the hilt and grind it over the shell- it didn't needed to go so hard this time. The grind was satisfying to his ears and he kept wearing it down until he had a sizable amount of dust. That'd be good, yeah! He raised the axe and let down the dust into the vial he'd chosen for this color, watching as the light shined off his current tattoo.

Now, he wanted to accent that blue- it'd look nice against his own navy blue, so as he gathered up dust, he summoned the will to find a specific color reminiscent of the feeling Orion gave him. He more aimed deeper into the substrate this time to get a sure response. Something soft? Well- he didn't know specific rocks, but he did want something he could grind up a bit easier than that quartz.

This time it was small and cracked already, pushing up his hand under him. There we go, and he could nearly break it apart with his hands. A few cracks here and there, and some larger pieces fell into the vial, the rest discarded to the side for now.

Finally, he retrieved water again- he wasn't sure if this part was necessary, but it seemed good to have the surface for it to spread through, right? It wasn't like he needed much of this color, though, and he placed it where he put the past dye to get that luck he got last time.

He gave it a moment, perhaps letting it settle in, as he looked back to his arm. After a moment of deliberation, he went to make a few more swirls onto his upper arm and shoulder, encasing his gem like silver warped to hold a gem in place. It was laid on thick to give it that texture, and when it dried he pressed his thumb against it with pride. It looked like the amulet, now, and he felt... Secure, like he was anchored to it. Maybe that was all he needed to do magic good?