An hour later, Speranza was stepping into the bowy arms of the forest. She had a medium sized basket, a bit smaller than she was used to, and couldn't help but feel a strange new sense of being. For once she didn't feel rushed, she felt free. It was an exhilarating, terrifying experience. She decided to run through the forest and leave the basket by an area she went to often while she explored. There was a small snare there which she always checked. She had a small knife on her for protection. She ran until she was out of breath, pausing sometimes to make marks in the trees so she wouldn't get lost. She then turned around and began to walk back to the clearing. She looked at the sun and saw it was about half an hour before she was due back. She smiled as she filled the basket with as much as she could. A rabbit was hung up in her trap and she snapped its neck. When she was done it was much closer to the top than she was used to. Heading home, she was tired, felt warm, but was happy.
Gobber was just leaving the forge when she got back to the village. He smiled at her and waved. She happily returned to the house and set down her basket. She prepared the rabbit and threw in some wild onions and garlic she found. She took out a tool she always had in a bag and crushed both the garlic and onions. She then tore off and shredded the green onion heads. Gobber watched her, confused.
"What are you making?" he asked.
"Cooking a rabbit I trapped. It's gonna be really good," she replied. "It'll be ready for supper. For lunch, are you alright with a sandwich?"
"Sure," he said. He got some bread and added some yak butter and cooked up some fish to put on them. He handed Speranza her lunch and she happily sat down to eat.
She bit into the sandwich and "mmm'd" in happiness. Though it was simple, she hadn't had something this good in a long time. Gobber smacked his lips when he finished, then brushed the crumbs from his hand, hook, shirt, mustache, and clothing. He stood and ruffled her hair before going back to work in the forge. The village needed more weapons, such as swords, axes and maces. Speranza followed him when she was finished, and tilted her head curiously. She saw him pump bellows into a bed of coals where there were metal pieces. With each squeeze, the flames flared briefly. She thought of how she could use the same idea. She had found some rocks that were shiny while exploring and ran off to ask for another basket. She got a small one and a broken pickaxe. She replaced what she could then went to the forge to see the blacksmith.
"Can I go into the forest again?" she asked.
"Sure," he said without turning around. "Just be back before sundown."
"Okay," she said happily. She skipped into the forest and went to a rock face where there was a small indent. She took out the pick and dug at some of the sort of shiny rocks. They fell away and she picked them up. She brought them to a clearing that had nothing but dirt on the ground. She gathered some firewood and built a fire. She took out a small cauldron she always had with her and put the rocks into the container. She then bent down and blew on the coals, strengthening the flames and causing them to flare. She kept this going until she saw the metal begin to glow white. She used some leather and dumped the metal out onto a flat rock that was nearby. She then used a rock and pounded the white hot metal. It shot sparks everywhere. Once she couldn't hit the metal anymore, she ran down to the stream and grabbed a pot of cold water. Darting back to the clearing, she dumped it over the stuff she had been beating. It hissed and steamed like an infuriated cat. Once the smoke and steam cleared, she found what looked like a knife blade that was oddly shaped at one end. She cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. Her gaze drifted between the pickaxe and the piece of metal before her. She took the handle out of the pick and fitted the wood to the still warm metal. She tapped the butt of the pick against the rock, seating the metal securely. She turned it this way and that, smiling in admiration.
It was crude, but it was a metal pick nonetheless. She gathered more sorta shiney rocks and made her way back to the village. Her basket was heavy with raw, uncooked metal, but she knew if she explained to Gobber he would probably understand and might even help her.