She was resting on a stone, humming to herself, her new backpack on her lap, her needle and thread by her side, Sewing together the tears in the leather was too easy compared to what she had already done with live flesh, and without the blood and twitching muscle spasms, this was a walk in the park. She saw flashes every now and again, but she just took calm breaths and closed her eyes and let the image fade before continuing her work.

It wasn't until she was almost done that she noticed she had acquired an audience. A small little hybrid was watching her from behind a nearby stone, cold blue eyes watching in avid fascination while she worked. If they were here to watch and learn by adventitious chance, she would let them.

She gave a very, very, very small smile, thinking of Hawthorne and Giga, and she beckoned the little hatchling forward.

He had just been getting grass for his mother when he heard a faint humming and decided on a whim to go near it. The voice was raspy, like there were cobwebs in her throat, and he thought the voice sounded wise and nice, so he just placed the grass as gently as he could down in a spot he'd do his best to remember, and he walked towards the sound.

And the sight! It was like seeing a sight from heaven above, where the stars twinkled with their silent, cold glory, and he hid as he watched her work. Her hands! They were just like his! And the needle that stitched the leather together! He didn't just want it, he needed something just like that!

He'd been plagued with ideas the past few days he'd been awake of things he wanted to make, things he wanted to craft, but he was despairing at the thought of never coming across the materials to make the things he wanted. He wanted to scavenge, to find materials and hoard them so he could stay at home and put things together - he was done with weaving grass crowns with Mama, he wanted something more!

She beckoned him over with a glint of her warm brown eyes, and he walked over, his own eyes as big as saucers.

"H....how?"

"How? She echoed with humor. Why, everyone was asking her questions today. She'd never have thought herself a font of information, or someone easy to come up to and ask, given her ugly form, but she was flattered all the same.

"I found this here, the needle, the thread, and this pack. And I'm fixing it to put stuff in. Here, do you want to see?

She offered the backpack to the little one, feeling generous. She understood the need to understand, to gain knowledge, and for her, teachers were rare and invaluable in her childhood. If she didn't have anyone around to explain, she took whatever knowledge she could scavenge, often at her own cost.