Without a word he picked the shell and held it in his hand, turning it over gently to avoid cutting himself.

Some things, not unlike some people, took to the Shroud like a magnet takes to iron. They gathered it about them, within them and stored it. The release of this and the control of the gathered Shroud is what was commonly called magic or sorcery. An object of course, had no will and no way to channel the stored energies of the Shroud, not by itself anyway.

"Hmm."

His eye flickered from Venla to the shell and rested there, pondering the mysteries of it.

"There is magic here, real magic, not just some natural wonder."
Again he did not believe that Unicorns had anything to do with it but even so, the fact that this place did not gather Weaver's by the dozen to scrounge and pick and dig the very essence of these shells for themselves surprised him. Untapped wells of power are rarely left alone for long once discovered.

His mind, ever studious and given to experimentation, quickly came to a trivial but all the same curious conception for its use.
"The butt of his spear he drove into the sand and there it stood as he reached out with his now free hand to once more summon the ice hawk to his side with a glint of the his darkstone eye.
"To me!"

This time it obeyed, but he suspected that had no small thing to do with Venla's proximity.
Such a curious thing he had made that it seemed drawn to the woman.
"Watch."

His instruction to Venla now bid her observe his motions as he reached with the shell now and slipped it inside the crystal clear ice of his creation, leaving it somewhere near where a heart might conceivably be located if it had one.
When he removed his hand from the bird shaped golem his hand was wet and cold, not that it bothered him overmuch.
"This creation requires the Shroud to exist, like oil fuels a lamp and when that runs out it will return to what it once was, ice and only that but for a time, with the shell within, it might keep its form and function for a while longer without me to replenish it."

The experiment would last as long as it would last and no longer. Like the hawk itself, a curiosity upon a curiosity recklessly combined with the notion of something new to come from it. With that he allowed the thing to go again and it took once more to the beach where it again idled at the shells.
"You are welcome to keep it under condition that you tell me how many days it lasts when I return."
Increasing the longevity of created things was hard to do, it took time to gather and imbue items with enough Shroud to perform it effectively but if this place seems to have a naturally occurring source for such things then it would prove useful and certainly worth his interest.
Perhaps even enough to bother staying a while longer.

@Venla Thiel
 
Venla watched in stillness as the shell was placed into the hawk’s chest, its milky spiral vanishing beneath a layer of cold, crystalline feathers. The bird gave no dramatic cry. It merely lived, perhaps more steadily now. She exhaled, the breath misting in the salt-bitten air.

When Vaaga made his offer, her gaze lingered on the hawk. “I’ll watch it,” she said, voice low. “Count the days. And when you return, I’ll tell you how long it lasted." She didn’t ask when he would return. He had given her a thing made of a breath, a storm, and some forgotten thoughts. A creature that may outlast the dawn or melt before nightfall. That was more than most men ever left behind. “Thank you, for trusting me with it.” It made the small town woman feel special.

Venla stepped back, hands brushing against her skirts, her green-glass eyes fixed briefly on the spear still jutting from the sand. Then back to the man. "You never told me what name to remember you by.”
 
He eyed her.

Few asked for his name and fewer still he deemed enough to give it them.

"My name is Vaaga and if you ever forgot me I would be very disappointed in myself."

A small but meaningful smile worked his face upwards and the light in his eye betrayed his moment of playfulness before it blew away in the sea breeze.
He let it blow for a moment before he spoke again and cast his gaze onto the dark seas southward.

"You seem honest and fair minded. Now I would know your name, that I may ask for you when I am here again."

Vaaga knew then that he would certainly come back and that he would stay a while and when he did that he would seek again to speak with this woman.

@Venla Thiel
 
Venla caught the glint in his eye and the smile that passed like a shadow across his face. She smirked. "A grave shame it would be," she teased him "for a man such as you to be forgotten by a humble brewer’s daughter." Her tone carried a hint of jest, but it was tempered by respect. She dipped her head slightly, eyes never leaving his. A man such as Vaaga would have little cause for such worry. Few forgot a display of magic, let alone a flight through the sky.

"My name is Venla. My kin are the brewers in Arrowdale. Folk know our name. Just ask for me, and someone will point you the right way.” Her hand rested at her side, fingers brushing against her skirt. “I should return,” she said at last, gently. “If I’m gone too long, my brothers start wondering."

She stepped lightly across the sand toward the crystal hawk. “You’re coming with me, bird” she murmured. Slowly, reverently, she stepped toward it and bent low, gathering it into her arms as one might a newborn lamb. Then she stood again and turned back to Vaaga. "Should the road bring you back. You’ll know where to find me,” she said, nodding once.
 
Venla of the Arrowdale brewers.

For the second time he thought her fortunate and the phantom itch of his false eye returned.

"I will find you again Venla."
He needed to rest, the ice bridge was powerful and convenient but it was a costly spell and until he replenished himself he would only be capable of minor Arts.

Returning Venla's nod he made ready to leave and took up his spear once again.

They parted then in the dark and cold, the hawk made of ice in Venla's arms seemed passive as if tamed all its short life.
It looked up at her examining and curious in the way birds do.

Their footprints, starting where the ice bridge had left them and walking together, looked as though they had come straight from the sea like the miraculous shells.
Come morning it would be a mystery for the township until high tide came in to erase it and all evidence of their strange meeting.

@Venla Thiel
 
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