Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Sunday [03/14].

[special_rabbit]

Yesterday had been a great day for Amaya; she felt incredibly relaxed, had herself some nice tea, a good book, some fine work done in the greenhouse. Which seemed to make it all the more the shame that it didn't carry into the next day at all.

The way she felt that morning when she finally groggily woke up seemed to be taking the idea of 'waking up on the wrong side of the bed' to new levels.

Not even the lobsters could make her feel better.

In fact, the lobsters very much almost ended up in a pot.

They would have been in a pot if it weren't for the fact that Amaya had a very good, time-honored tradition for dealing with moods just like this one, and that was going down into the forge and taking out all her unbridled and unaccounted for anger on some metal with a big hammer.

Of course, the only problem with that was that one really should keep one's temper when tempering weapons. The flares of the flames of rage within her were far too heated for the work, and she kept messing things up in very obvious and simple ways, which only seemed to make things worse.

"Ahhhhh, zards!"

The clanging of her hammer against steel quickly turned into a depressing clank.

"Confound it!"

A mighty swing sent the hammer flying out of Amaya's hand an into the Crumbler.

"Blast!"

Amaya got a little too close to the fire and wound up singing part of her skirt.

"Ohhhh....Fuck!"

This may have been a terrible idea.

The Forge is open!