Mosur swung the hammer again, a loud clang sound echoed throughout the Tian Monastery and metal gave way to the force of the blow. He breathed deep as he pulled the hammer back and exhaled as he swung again further shaping the metal. Shaping was easy and not nearly as time consuming as decorating, but it was the most important.
The ground was cold against his cheek when Mosur awoke and pushed himself up. Saashenka laid on the ground not far away, the sight caused him to get to his hooves quickly and over to her side. A twinge of pain struck him at the sight of her broken horn. She was breathing, but it was shallow, she had exerted herself too much.
Another loud clang distracted him from his thoughts followed by cursing. He’d hit the metal too hard and flattened it too much in that area. He looked the cooling ring over and shoved it back into the forge. He exhaled and sat back on the log he was using as a stool, letting the coals do their work heating the metal so he could shape it again.
He’d gotten her out of her dirty clothes and into her bed then he’d taken a sponge and damp wash cloth to her face and horn. It had been cauterized by the blow it seemed and had bled very little. The edges were sharp and broken bits still clung refusing to fall on their own. Portions of her long beautiful hair eaten away by the fire.
He pulled the metal free with a set of tongs and grabbed a smaller hammer content to begin working on the finer details of shaping. He pounded out the section he’d hammered too flat and twisted it over judging the large ring’s shape and thickness. With a nod to himself he slipped the ring of metal onto a v-shaped rod and hammered an indentation in the ring’s form.
He cleaned Saashenka’s horn at the break and made sure it was properly healed over at the center so infection wouldn’t have a place to set in. All of this was done in silence as she rested and he fretted. He retrieved a few tools from the bathroom and his jeweler’s kit and set about seeing to the horn’s damage. Mosur removed the broken pieces that would not heal properly and filed the sharp edges down for personal comfort. He worked gently and slowly to keep from disturbing her fitful rest, millennias as a healer told him this needed to be done.
The heavy work was done now and the fine details and exact shaping would take place at the house on the kitchen table. He’d yet to dream up a design for this misshapen bracelet but it was a project he wanted to take on, it would keep his hands busy after all.