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It was a beautiful day and Dyakida wasn't going to spend all of it inside a tree carving a bow. Of course, she did have to make the bow, and a few other weapons and items, but that didn't mean she had to be cooped up doing it.

She went to one of her favorite nearby clearings and sat on a familiar log, filtered sunlight falling gently on her back as she shaped the wood. Of course, the resin and the leather remained in her home. There'd been no one to carry them out for her – her hands had been full and Peyla couldn't carry something so heavy all by herself.

But that wasn't a big deal, exactly. Although Dyakida would have loved assistance, she didn't expect it all the time. She was, after all, an Alkidike. She could do things herself.

There was something wonderfully meditative about carving wood, and all the shrieks and clatters of the forest, and the speech and chatter of Emeka, faded into the background as she focused on the wood.

A softened thud broke her concentration and she looked up, antennae quivering. ”Who's there?” she called out, listening around her for some sense of where they were. She wasn't afraid – it was daytime and she was close to town – but if someone had snuck up on her as a joke, they were going to get a talking to, that was for sure.

Peyla had been resting on a branch, watching her Alkidike carve wood, when something very interesting crashed down right in front of them. They were bluegreen and had white hair and had yellow eyes and had pretty markings and... and... they were just plain pretty. The sprite squealed a chiming sound of delight and darted over, touching Zoraida with her little hands. This was treasure.

Dyakida smirked at the sounds – if Peyla was involved then there, obviously, was no threat. ”Hello.” she replied, ”Are you in need of assistance, or just heavy-footed?”

How would I be offering her feet? Dyakida wondered, amused, as they began to... apologize? Chat? It was hard to say. It sounded like a girl, about prentice age, and she sounded... interesting. Dyakida smirk grew as they babbled, unable to be restrained.

”Well, you appear to have fallen into Emeka.” she joked, setting the weapon aside and shaking out the cloth she used to protect her knees and legs while crafting. ”And I appear to be the person you've been sent to find.” And she was the best weaponsmith of all the Alkidike, apparently. Well, she knew that she was good, and she wasn't an elder, but if someone considered her to be the best... She wasn't going to argue. She beckoned with her hand in Zoraida's general direction. ”May I see the sword?”

"I suppose it does!" Dyakida chuckled. She had trouble travelling between settlements herself on her own, too. She could only imagine the troubles that a sighted young woman would get herself into on the road.

She took the wrapped parcel carefully, weighing it in her arms. Yes. A sword. A single sword, though? Interesting. She didn't often get to work with such a weapon. Carefully she began to unwrap it. "Well, swords are dangerous." she said, "I get cuts sometimes myself." hence the care. "In fact," she offered, "I'm surprised I don't get more, considering I work with sharp objects all day."

Her hand touched something smooth and cool, and Dyakida carefully unwrapped the last of it. "Ah. Well." she said, beginning to run her hands - carefully, over the weapon. That her father trusted in her abilities enough to leave it all to her judgement said a lot. She got a sense of it's size and shape, and then picked it up by it's hilt. It was too heavy for her to lift with one hand, so she slid the other beneath the blade and helped to lift it that way, resting it against the flat of her hand. She tried to aim it away from the girl's voice, and contemplated the weight of it, her face creased in contemplation as she gently adjusted the angle. "I think I know the problem." she said, unable to restrain a smile of triumph as she set the blade back down on the cloth. She felt the sting of a cut as the edge grazed the edge of her wrist, but paid it no heed. Cuts came with the business. She rubbed it against the blanket and hoped that Peyla didn't see. The sprite could get unreasonable about tiny cuts.

"Well, you know my name." she said conversationally, "Might I know yours? And your fathers?" It was always good to know the people that regarded her highly.

"Quite all right." Dyakida said, reassuringly. Zoraida. Soren. Not people she knew. But she wasn't about to turn away new clients, especially, again, when they came to her because she was the best. After all the whiny extremist children of before, respectful boosts to her ego were welcome.

"I don't blame him." she commented, taking out tools and materials from her pack and setting them, very deliberately, beside her, "The tribe is not always kind to our Brothers, after all." Especially Brothers who took on a non-Alkidike class like Sentinel, or ran off with... Hmm... "Is your mother an earthling?" she asked conversationally.

Ah. So she was... very partially Alkidike. Hmmm... Not that that changed anything, in Dyakida's mind. The sword was for a half-alkidike, a child of Aisha. He was kin. Dyakida had her thoughts on how people like Zoraida's father should comport themselves, and the future they should commit to, but her opinions were her own. Aisha, she was sure, had her reasons for everything, and that inclded the fate of her children, and their children.

"They are better than they were..." said Dyakida. She selected her tool and, methodically, began her work. "But I would not call them good. The Extremists... they did not spring from nothing... and their ideals were not wholly purged from the tribe." The battle, Sister against Sister... That had been a horrible thing. Zoraida sounded young, though, and clearly her father and by extension her had been away from Alkidike lands for a long time. "What do you know of the Extremists?" she asked.

"I agree. We are stronger together... otherwise Aisha would not bring forth hybrids into the world at all. Aisha knows best... I wish some of our sisters truly listened to her." she said. Sadly, it was naiive to believe that to be possible. The Alkidike had, for generations, been like this. Just because everything was changing didn't mean that that would.

"Forgive me for asking Zoraida, but you are Ice, Alkidike, and shifter... were you born from Aisha?"