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Two days after Freydis had come to get her armor measurements done, the final member of the Warband came prowling through Homewood. Torsten did not enjoy it here, had never understood the appeal of living in a forest where nothing happened and everyone grew fat and lazy and content with mind-numbing drudgery. The idle lives of Homewood highborn disgusted him. He could think of nothing more wasteful of space and breath than a noulicorn who spent a perfectly good lifetime living in the lap of luxury, never once bothering to venture out into the world and heal it.

Unlike his companion before him, Torsten made his way straight to the armory, on as direct a route as he could possibly find. Perhaps it was a desire to spend as little time in Homewood as possible, or perhaps he simply did not have it in him to stop and smell the roses. Whatever it was, Torsten hardly stopped to take in any of the sights before arriving at Dyna's shop.

He stuck his head into the entryway, as if unwilling to go any farther - this building had been made by the Others. That seemed to be enough reason for him to stop just short of actually going in.

"Hi," he said in his characteristically gruff, almost brusque voice.

Of the three, Torsten was perhaps the least receptive to the idea of wearing armor - and armor made of metal, no less. But he was a reticent creature at best, and it had never occurred to him to voice his skepticism. He had been told to come get his measurements and so he had, muttering his complaints only to himself as he'd made his way to Homewood.

"Oh," he grunted, not sounding particularly sorry. "Sorry."

He fell silent again, but this time, he seemed to be eyeing the two sets of armor laid out just behind Dyna, and a small frowned was all he had to show for his internal conflict. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It was just material, and Ragnar had promised that it would make them better and more effective in battle.

A few moments passed before Torsten decided it was time to speak up again. "Those are probably for my friends. I'm Torsten. I have the... insignia." He sounded like he'd had to work to get the word out. Perhaps it was just an entirely foreign concept. Either way, he didn't seem that happy about it. "You got a stick?"

He didn't necessarily... mean to seem disinterested. But the truth was, Torsten wasn't that thrilled and he'd never had a knack for acting. It was better that he didn't try to pretend that this was the highlight of his day. Still, he wasn't trying to offend, so he did his best to wipe any overtly negative expressions from his face. Neutral must be better.

When Dyna returned with the stick, he bobbed his head in a short show of thanks, and snagged it with his teeth. He brought it to the ground and scratched out an insignia right there in the dirt before him - the outline of a bird in profile, with wings folded across its back.

"That's the... idea," he said, his voice low. Of all the noulicorns in the Warband, Torsten was perhaps the least artistically inclined, so for him to have been put in charge of relaying this image to Dyna was probably not the best. He seemed to know it too, though he refused to look embarrassed. He resorted instead to looking anywhere but actually at her, as if pretending not to see the potential judgment would make it go away.

Before he knew it, she had snatched the stick back, and Torsten seemed perfectly content to let her take it. He watched quietly as she embellished his rough outline, adding elements that changed it from... kind of resembling a cockatrice to... nicely-executed design?

The purple buck blinked, as if surprised by the way she had so quickly and easily improved upon the basic design. In truth... he liked it. He liked it quite a lot, and it seemed clear to him that the band would approve. She had done what Freydis has suggested to would - take their idea and make it something more artistic, more symbolic. To show his approval, Torsten allowed himself one curt nod and a short, "Hm."

That bout of excitement over and done with, he turned back to Dyna. "Believe it'll do," he said to confirm that his earlier action had, indeed, meant that the design was good to go. He took a step back and surveyed the armor shop once again. "Well uh, if you need measurements, out here would be best."

He hadn't really considered it before. Torsten had simply assumed that measurements were all Dyna needed, and he hadn't come prepared with ideas. Still... he supposed he could scrounge up some inspiration.

"Strong," he said finally. "Got to trust it if I'm wearing it. Don't have time to haul around something that's fit to break under attack." He didn't seem to much mind bulk. The buck certainly looked big enough to withstand some weight, even if it would slow him down a bit. It didn't take a tactical genius to understand that Torsten wasn't particularly quick to begin with. He'd compensate for that in other ways.

There was a long silence in which he didn't say any more. He looked back down at the cockatrice insignia, then back to the pieces of armor laid out in her shop. "Looks good," he said finally, almost grudgingly, as if doling out compliments felt particularly awkward to him.

Torsten didn't seem to mind listening. If anything, the details seemed to pique some of his interest, and he almost even nodded along for a little bit as Dyna explained how she would make the metal do its job as intended.

When she was done measuring, he gave her a nod - a kinder one this time, and a more genuine sort of thanks. "Good," he said. It wasn't enough to loosen his tongue in any significant manner, but perhaps the doe would recognize that he seemed a little less guarded than before. "We'll give you some time to work."

The buck bobbed his head again. He took one more peek at the half-finished armor lying inside Dyna's workshop, seemed satisfied, and took his leave.