@dragon-revolutionist
Each swing was punctuated by a CRACK! of the diamond dust and the CLANG! of wrought steel against harder substances. She was out when the storm hit, having found shelter in one of the many crannies folks randomly hid stuff. Now? Smashing away at her door at the mound to get inside if only to get warm and get the forge heated for work. But... she wasn’t that strong, so it was more watching a noodly young woman swing a too big wrench at a pile of crystal snow ineffectively.
Eventually she stopped, slumping.
“DAMMIT I NEED MY FIRE GUN!”






