You could tell how exhausted of Demetrius Robin was. How her face fell every time he called one of her crafts “impractical”, how she would get so bored whenever he rambled on about his damn research.. and especially how dissapointed she was at how he treated her son. You could tell this wasn’t the life that she envisioned. She craved more than whatever it was she was doing on that mountain. So... you took to visiting her as much as you could. Dropping off wood from your farm or... simply just coming to share a drink with her as you talked about her latest carpentry project -- to which she was always very eager to share with you. And.. you were soon enough becoming one of her favorite things to look forward to; you were the one person in the entire town who actually gave a damn about what she made.

You were sat in her kitchen with her, sipping on some tea she had made you whilst she ranted about her latest hardwood bed she had made, “—And it was probably the prettiest hardwood I’d seen, the grain was to die for,” Robin emphasized, “Absolute beauty of a bedframe; four posts and--” She sighed, her eyebrows furrowing as she leaned back in her chair, “Demetrius says it’s an inefficient use of materials... Sometimes it feels like he’s deliberately obtuse just to irritate me.”