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Tink retrieved the doll head with brunette hair and carefully stitched it to the rest of the body. Fixing up the the dress, he added a nice length of lace wrapped around the waist of the doll with a bow as a nice belt.

He ponder the doll for a moment before adding asecond strip of lace to the doll's hair. "There, now you are matching." He handed over the doll to the filly. "Here you go. I hope she likes your sister.....and vise versa." He quickly added.

Tink blushed a very deep color and stared after her with large eyes. A twittering escaped him as his mind tried to make words, but remind quiet blank and silent any chaotic little thought. He fell limp against his bench, like a doll with glass eyes as he stared unblinking and quiet maddeningly waiting for his mind to stop sputtering like a broken wind up toy.

With a sudden shudder, he seemed to kick start himself. Right, a voice box...and pretty black feather. Wait, no, just a voice box. He picked at his box as he tried to recall what had been swimming in his mind that morning before so many interruptions kept coming. Oh and what lovely interruptions they had been.

But still, he was in need to give his doll a voice box and perhaps get a few answers at last.

While not a child, the phony before him seemed to click a pattern in Tink's mind. He stared with a slight open mouth as he tried to get his mind around as to why it seemed all the supernatural phonies of phonyland seemed to be breaking their toys.

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he just sighed and nodded. "Yes, it seems I am." He tilted his head. "But just toys, precious little play things. I can hardly help you with a shelf or what not." He should know, he had tried to fix his bookshelf, and somehow by the end, he had finish with a simple wooden truck. Even he wasn't entirely sure how his train of thought had done that.

That was quiet the color of pink on that bear. Tink had a bit of a hate/love relationship with the color, he liked the soft salmon pink, and brutal dark fandago pink, but he couldn't stand....oh dear lords, he needed to stop hanging out with Blush, he was learning the names of various pinks. Oh look, the grown up was talking, what was he saying?

"Oh yes, I would find that quiet distressing myself." He held the arm gently for a moment before laying the bear down on the table while he looked for some more string and needles. He chirped and twittered off words to himeslf as he search for a thread to match. "I wouldn't worry too much, it's an easy enough fix. May I ask what happen to poor Miss Coconut...or would that be Mrs.?"

Tink tutted softly at the bear for not sharing her misfortunes before he threaded a needle with a careful eye. "Well, I wouldn't know much about that kinda thing, but I seen a couple of phonies dance around each other. Is it anything like that?" He threaded the needled and went to twitched up the arm, but paused. "...would this be too stressful for you to see?" His two previous works that day had not been direct owners of the items at hand. He could think of a few phonies too attach to dolls to see them stitch in front of them.

"Yes, quiet brave. Much like yourself." He carefully began stitching the arm back in place, keeping an eye on the adult for the first few stitches to make sure he didn't faint, cause, really, he was just a kid and really didn't know how to deal with that. "John is pretty brave about this stuff too." He motion to the doll laying on top of his tool box. "He likes it when i use different colors so he can have scars and stuff."

"....I am sure Mr. Snuggle would at least be enough of gentleman to help Miss Coconut with recovery time, don't you think?"

"Hmm, I am quiet tired of hearing phonies saying they aren't brave when they very much are." His ears swivel, not exactly in the ohter's direction, twitching up and down, and then sideways as he worked. "I am sorry, keep her away from who?"