Wren noticed the not so subtle look that Beleg had given her, but paid it no mind. She was surprised, however, when he called her a lady and kissed the back of her hand instead of shaking it. The men in this area didn't so much as even glance at Wren as if she were a woman. Many had told her, growing up, that she was a giant, that no man would ever want her for fear of them being broken. Here, she was viewed as a she-beast. Given a wide berth and regarded as dangerous. Wren had come to accept this reality, recognizing her unusually large height and muscular stature.
Though, despite those muscles, from behind,when her apron no longer hid her figure, she, indeed, did have a woman's shape. Her shoulders were wide, but not so wide as her hips, and the curvature of her spine would lead one to believe that despite her muscles, she still had a narrow waist. It seemed that she, unlike many blacksmiths, did not eat with reckless abandon when the day was through.
"Nails, Beleg. Nails are what leave this forge. And horseshoes. Not as many of those anymore, since many had to sell their horses for the King's tax, but we make nails, and hinges and locks. And..."
Wren's sentence stopped when she looked at her newly hired hand. A dragonkin? Or...? It was odd to see someone of a mythical persuasion in these parts, and even rarer to see one of his kind. It was then that Wren lunged forward, grabbed his arm and pulled him into the dark recesses of the workshop before releasing him.
"Are you stupid? Uncovering yourself in this town in the middle of the day? What if soldiers saw you?" Wren had no problem with those of the mythical persuasion, however the King had declared them heretics, and if soldiers found them, they would be jailed or executed. This town tended to be a little more loyal to the king than most, if out of fear than anything else.
Sighing, Wren turned and ran a calloused hand down her face as she turned away for a moment. He was quite handsome to her, but it meant he was a distraction. But he was also dangerous to have around in an already dangerous situation. Bending down and picking up a large bundle of what appeared to be swords, she leaned them against the wall before turning back to Beleg. "I won't turn away help. In fact, I have a job you can help me with, but it isn't until after the sun has set. Can you handle yourself in a fight? I hope so. It may be nothing, but I'm not sure... So rest while you can."
Turning and setting to work, Wren sat at the grinding wheel and began moving the pedals, causing the stone to spin. She pulled a long, ornate blade out and began sharpening it.
"Ive been doing this for 12 years. After my pa died. This was his forge and he had me on as an apprentice before he was killed." There had been a scuffle in front of the forge with an unruly stranger and some guards. Wren's father had tried to calm tempers and intervene, only to have a knife lodged into his back for his efforts. The guards assured her and her mother that it had been the stranger. No one really knew.
"And you? What do you do, aside from wander? And flirt with the cute little maidens? Yes, I saw you from down the street."
