Ida couldn't help the shit-eating little smirk that curled her jowls at Solrentorro's obvious frustration, not bothering to acknowledge his correction as she leaned back and sat heavily against the snow. Her brow quirked at his bragging, not yet believing his claims of grand magic and architectural prowess as she forced her body to remain relaxed even as he strode closer to demonstrate. Building wasn't a thing many wolves did back home, and those that did focused their efforts on the structures made by those that had come before them. No one really knew who'd first built things such as castles or barns, only that sharp minds and strong bodies were needed in multitudes to maintain upkeep.
It was surprising then that the lion's magic returned in the form of a structure of his own. A tiny one, but intricate in design--more decorative than any Ida had known of in her previous lands. To her, castles were supposed to be protection, not artwork. Although she was undoubtably impressed, she eyed the display with a furrowed brow and rasped her tongue around bloodied chops. She pricked her ears at his words and snorted, raising a paw and carefully sticking a claw between one of the model's many holes. Windows, she recalled. Either to be filled with glass or left barren--either way, an easy point of weakness.
"Ah know what 'uh castle is," she rumbled. She wrinkled her muzzle, contemplating whether or not to compliment the lion on his admittedly impressive work. He has a big enough head already, she thought with some amusement. "It's...interestin'. Too open."
Ida thought of the castles that had been described to her; she'd never caught a glimpse with her own eyes, but she'd met wolves that had. A few of which were lucky enough to know the earth like the backs of their paws, and could drag their claws through the soil to draw their haunting outlines.
"Unless yer wantin' tuh die, raise th' windows higher than 'uh vertical jump, or make 'em narrower than yer shoulders. Wall'll be uh plus 'round th' perimeter--possibly raise th' base n' mash any clay with blood. Keeps it from crumblin," As she spoke, she dragged harsh lines through the soil around the castle, boxing it in and clawing crude circles into the earth where each corner formed for towers.
"Needs uh solid point uh defense n' reinforcements--tunnels maybe. Yuh got n' eye for delicacy. Yer magic is impressive, ah'll admit. But there's always somethin' stronger--n' here ain't no place fer art if yer dead," her muzzle crinkled with with a low, rueful chuckle. Still, despite her critiques of it, the great dog eyed the model with obvious interest. She didn't think it couldn't work, after all. It just needed adjustments--something she would be around to provide. Her attention turned back to Aguipua as he questioned her, and she huffed.
"Ah did," she answered, and briefly considered not repeating it just to know his response. She stayed quiet for a moment, but decided then that she liked the spikey feline enough to not shut down his politeness entirely. "It's Ida. Yuh got any input on th' building? Been told yer th' advisor after all."
It was surprising then that the lion's magic returned in the form of a structure of his own. A tiny one, but intricate in design--more decorative than any Ida had known of in her previous lands. To her, castles were supposed to be protection, not artwork. Although she was undoubtably impressed, she eyed the display with a furrowed brow and rasped her tongue around bloodied chops. She pricked her ears at his words and snorted, raising a paw and carefully sticking a claw between one of the model's many holes. Windows, she recalled. Either to be filled with glass or left barren--either way, an easy point of weakness.
"Ah know what 'uh castle is," she rumbled. She wrinkled her muzzle, contemplating whether or not to compliment the lion on his admittedly impressive work. He has a big enough head already, she thought with some amusement. "It's...interestin'. Too open."
Ida thought of the castles that had been described to her; she'd never caught a glimpse with her own eyes, but she'd met wolves that had. A few of which were lucky enough to know the earth like the backs of their paws, and could drag their claws through the soil to draw their haunting outlines.
"Unless yer wantin' tuh die, raise th' windows higher than 'uh vertical jump, or make 'em narrower than yer shoulders. Wall'll be uh plus 'round th' perimeter--possibly raise th' base n' mash any clay with blood. Keeps it from crumblin," As she spoke, she dragged harsh lines through the soil around the castle, boxing it in and clawing crude circles into the earth where each corner formed for towers.
"Needs uh solid point uh defense n' reinforcements--tunnels maybe. Yuh got n' eye for delicacy. Yer magic is impressive, ah'll admit. But there's always somethin' stronger--n' here ain't no place fer art if yer dead," her muzzle crinkled with with a low, rueful chuckle. Still, despite her critiques of it, the great dog eyed the model with obvious interest. She didn't think it couldn't work, after all. It just needed adjustments--something she would be around to provide. Her attention turned back to Aguipua as he questioned her, and she huffed.
"Ah did," she answered, and briefly considered not repeating it just to know his response. She stayed quiet for a moment, but decided then that she liked the spikey feline enough to not shut down his politeness entirely. "It's Ida. Yuh got any input on th' building? Been told yer th' advisor after all."