Liora
Kara put the grip on the bench and pressed her thumb into its worn edge.
"You've been turning it too far."
"It moved before I turned it."
"Then you turned it too far afterward."
Liora opened her mouth, thought of yesterday's last practice strike, and closed it.
Kara grinned. "There it is."
The forge room was warm enough to make the healing cut on Liora's arm itch beneath its light covering. She resisted scratching it. Kara had already warned her away from touching anything with hands that had been near the blade oil.
On the bench lay two strips of leather, a wooden core and a small pile of shavings. The better strip was dark and smooth. The cheaper one had an uneven edge Kara could trim without difficulty.
"How long will that last?" Liora asked, pointing to the cheaper piece.
"If you dry it properly? Long enough. If you leave it wet in a closed sheath bag again, we can have this conversation next week."
"That happened once."
"It only needed once."
