Kyrie smiled. For the first time in his life, his skills came in handy to make money. Good and hard-earned money, not the lies and deceptions he executed in prison. He missed the opportunity in the old society, but now he made up for it.
Grinding and cutting through bone in an orderly manner was a mess, but at least he knew how to execute it properly. He ground and cut it into shape, attempting his best to not damage the structure and consistency of the bone.
The wrong movement could destroy the piece, make it crumble, and be a frail tool. It demanded his attention. He was a shy person by nature, but the eyes of those people—Harken, Allen, Zillia, and a big goblin—made it worthwhile.
They were staring deeply into his actions and the process, watching it with vigor and sharp eyes. Each had a different reason. Zillia couldn't copy the intricate process of his craft, but she liked to see how it was done, with hopes of replicating it soon, maybe.
